Page:Felicia Hemans in Tha Casket 1829.pdf/4



But oh! too beautiful and blest Thy home of youth hath been; Where shall thy wing, poor bird! find rest, Shut out from that sweet scene?

Kind voices from departed years Must haunt thee many a day; Looks, that will smite the source of tears, Across thy soul must play.

Friends—now the alter'd or the dead— And music that is gone, A gladness o'er thy dreams will shed, And thou shalt wake alone.

Alone!—it is in that deep word That all thy sorrow lies; How is the heart to courage stirr'd    By smiles from kindred eyes!

And are these lost? and have I said To aught like thee—be strong? So bid the willow lift its head, And brave the tempest's wrong!