Hush! let me hear of love no more
Till grief has had her rightful day:
Must I not count my treasure o'er
Before I give it all away?
Sweet home! from every field and tree
Breathes all my past of joys and tears;
The store of lifelong memory,
The voiceless love of twenty years.
My father's sigh, with smiles above,
The tear my mother lets not fall,
My brother's heart, so sore with love —
Can I alone then heal them all?
To love and heal, one little hour!
To loose and lift each clinging root;
To pour the scent of my last flower
On those who shall not see my fruit:
One little hour! my woman's eyes
With childhood's dying tears are dim:
Love calls me: I shall soon arise,
And bid farewell, and follow him!
