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FOREFATHERS' ROCK.
233
With one hand pressed to thy bosom near,
And one extended in awe and fear:
I have pictured thee on the sea-worn rock,
Free from the storm and the tempest-shock,
And thought of the home of thy infant glee;
Have fancied what thy heart said to thee,
As thou didst stand, by the sky defined,
With a look half sorrowful, half resigned.

There were kind ones with thee, the loved, the true;
Yet over the water thy fond heart flew,
And ties just broken were clasped again,
And bound once more in a silken chain;
The memories of childhood were dear to thee—
They are dear to us ever, on land or sea.
Perchance there were written upon thy heart
Scenes, which thy tongue might never impart.
Perchance there were whispered within thine ear
Words, none other than thine might hear,
For thee to remember, forever and aye,
When the scenes of thy girlhood were far away!

They are passed forever, those happy hours,
Vanished away with the birds and flowers!
They are gone! and their memories will return
But as the sunset, above an urn