THE POLAR STAR.
BY L. E. L.
This star sinks below the horizon in certain latitudes. I watched it sink lower and lower every night, till at last it disappeared.
A star has left the kindling sky—
A lovely northern light;
How many planets are on high!
But that has left the night.
I miss its bright familiar face;
It was a friend to me,
Associate with my native place,
And those beyond the sea.
It rose upon our English sky,
Shone o'er our English land,
And brought back many a loving eye,
And many a gentle hand.
It seemed to answer to my thought:
It called the past to mind,
And with its welcome presence brought
All I had left behind.
The voyage it lights no longer ends
Soon, on a foreign shore;
How can I but recall the friends
Whom I may see no more?
Fresh from the pain it was to part—
How could I bear the pain?
Yet strong the omen in my heart
That says—We meet again;
Meet with a deeper, dearer love;
For absence shows the worth
Of all from which we then remove—
Friends, home, and native earth.
Thou lovely polar star!—mine eyes
Still turned the first on thee,
Till I have felt a sad surprise
That none looked up with me.
But thou hast sunk beneath the wave,
Thy radiant place unknown;
I seem to stand beside a grave,
And stand by it alone.
Farewell!—Ah, would to me were given
A power upon thy light:
What words upon our English heaven
Thy loving rays should write!
Kind messages of love and hope
Upon thy rays should be;
Thy shining orbit would have scope
Scarcely enough for me.
Oh, fancy vain as it is fond,
And little needed too!—
My friends! I need not look beyond
My heart to look for you!
