Page:Felicia Hemans in The Literary Souvenir 1827.pdf/3



III. The sailor at the helm they meet, And hope his bosom stirs, Upspringing, 'midst the waves, to greet The fair earth's messengers, That woo him, from the moaning main, Back to her glorious bowers again.

IV. They woo him, whispering lovely tales Of many a flowering glade, And fount's bright gleam in island-vales Of golden-fruited shade; Across his lone ship's wake they bring A vision and a glow of spring.

V. And, oh! ye masters of the lay, Come not even thus your songs, That meet us on life's weary way, Amidst her toiling throngs? Yes! o'er the spirit thus they bear A current of celestial air.

VI. Their power is from the brighter clime That in our birth hath part;