92 VISIT TO THE BIRTH-PLACE.
Is fresh before me, as of yesterday. Thy pleasant smile, the beauty of thy brow, Thine idol fondness for thine only one; The untold tenderness with which thy heart Embrac'd my first-born infant, when my joys, Swelling to their full climax, bore it on, With its young look of wonder, to thy home, A stranger visitant. Fade, visions, fade ! Ye make her vacant place too visible, Ye stir the sources of the bitter tear, When I would think of her eternal gain, And praise my God for her.
And now, farewell,
Dear native spot ! with fairest landscapes deck'd, Of old romantic cliff, and crystal rill, And verdant soil, enriched with proudest wealth,- Warm hearts and true.
Yet deem not I shall wear The mourner's weeds for thee. Another home Hath joys and duties. And, where'er my path On earth shall lead, I'll keep a nesting bough For hope, the song-bird, and, with cheerful step, Hold on my pilgrimage, remembering where Flowers have no autumn-languor, Eden's gate No flaming sword, to guard the tree of life.
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