Page:Pleasant Memories.pdf/17

What news from native land and home,
    Light carrier o'er the threatening tide?
Hast thou no folded scroll of love
    Pressed closely to thy panting side?

A bird of genius art thou? say!
    With impulse high thy spirit stirred,
Some region unexplored to gain,
    And soar above the common herd?

Burns in thy breast some kindling spark,
    Like that which fired the glowing mind.
Of the adventurous Genoese,
    An undiscovered world to find?

Whate'er thou art, how sad thy fate,
    With wasted strength the goal to spy,
Cling feebly to the flapping sail,
    And at a stranger's feet to die.

For thee the widowed mate shall gaze
    From leafy chamber curtained fair,
And wailing lays at evening's close
    Lament thy loss in deep despair.

Even thus, o'er life's unresting tide,
    Chilled by the billow's beating spray,
Some adventitious prize to gain,
    Ambition's votaries urge their way;