God’s Playground. A History of Poland, Vol. 2. 1795 to the Present

THE POLISH EMIGRATION 2I5

And shrieks the wild sea-mew. I morskie ptactwo swiergoce!

Yon sun that sets upon the sea Dalej za sloricem, gdzie jasno

glowe

We follow in his flight. W zachodzie pograza piany,

Farwell awhile to him and thee. Tymczasem slonce bywaj mi

zdrowe,

My native land—Good Night! Bywaj zdrow, kraju kochany.^18

For many, even today, the most fitting summary of their lot may be found in the
sad little verse composed ten days before his death by the indefatigable Julian
Niemcewicz:

O exiles, whose worldly wanderings are never complete

When may you rest your sore and weary feet?

The worm has its clod of earth. There's a nest for the wild dove.

Everyone has a homeland; but the Pole has only a grave.^19

Niemcewicz's own tombstone, in the graveyard at Montmo-rency, bears an
inscription composed by his friends. It ends with the line, which among the emi-
gres is equally famous:

/ tam gdzie jut tez niema, on Ize Polski ziozyt (And there, where tears are banished, he
still shed Poland's tear.)^20