the returning wanderer.
195
Which makes the light of departing age
Brighter than youth's gay dream.
And though, at the wizard touch of death,
The holiest ties are riven,
Love's mystic chain but parts on earth,
To be clasped more close in heaven.
Brighter than youth's gay dream.
And though, at the wizard touch of death,
The holiest ties are riven,
Love's mystic chain but parts on earth,
To be clasped more close in heaven.
THE RETURNING WANDERER.
Welcome! thou blessed spot!
Too long my feet the stranger's soil have pressed.
Long viewless, but, O! never yet forgot,
I seek thy blissful rest.
Too long my feet the stranger's soil have pressed.
Long viewless, but, O! never yet forgot,
I seek thy blissful rest.
Welcome! my childhood's home!
How doth my soul with voiceless rapture burn'!
Once more thy well-remembered haunts to roam,
My wandering footsteps turn.
How doth my soul with voiceless rapture burn'!
Once more thy well-remembered haunts to roam,
My wandering footsteps turn.
Before the shrine I bow,
Holy and hallowed by the air of heaven,
Where by the covenant of baptismal vow,
My soul to God was given.
Holy and hallowed by the air of heaven,
Where by the covenant of baptismal vow,
My soul to God was given.
My spirit leaps to greet
Its altar fires, its music rich and rare,
Its altar fires, its music rich and rare,
