An angel was tired of heaven, as he lounged in the golden street;
His halo was tilted sideways, and his harp lay mute at his feet;
So the Master stooped in His pity, and gave him a pass to go,
For the space of a moon, to the earth-world, to mix with the men below.
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I thing Robert, in this poem, is reflecting on the values taught him through the Church as a child set against his experiences whilst away prospecting. The temptation to lonely men on foreign shores would have been great, in conflict with the traditional values of the Victorian age.