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I'm not quite sure why, but Bob's photo and title somehow reminded me of Robert Louis Stevenson's "Requiem" that he wrote for his tombstone, and A.E. Housman's plundering, echoing poem. (To make it complete, they just needed the foresight to add an angler reference....)Requiem Under the wide and starry sky Dig the grave and let me lie: Glad did I live and gladly die, And I laid me down with a will. This be the verse you 'grave for me: 5 Here he lies where he long'd to be; Home is the sailor, home from the sea, And the hunter home from the hill. ----Home Is the SailorHome is the sailor, home from sea: Her far-borne canvas furledThe ship pours shining on the quay The plunder of the world.Home is the hunter from the hill: Fast in the boundless snareAll flesh lies taken at his will And every fowl of air.'Tis evening on the moorland free, The starlit wave is still:Home is the sailor from the sea, The hunter from the hill.
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