Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 20 1827.pdf/21



But this as dayspring's flush was brief, As early bloom or dew;— Alas! 'tis but the wither'd leaf That wears th' enduring hue! Those rocks along the Rhine's fair shore Might girdle in their world no more.

For now on Manhood's verge they stood, And heard Life's thrilling call As if a silver clarion woo'd    To some high festival; And parted as young Brothers part, With love in each unsullied heart.

They parted—soon the paths divide Wherein our steps were one, Like river-branches, far and wide Dissevering as they run, And making strangers in their course Of waves that had the same bright source.

Met they no more?—once more they met, Those kindred hearts and true! Twas on a field of Death, where yet The battle-thunders flew, Though the fierce day was well nigh past, And the red sunset smiled its last.

But as the combat closed they found For tender thoughts a space, And ev'n upon that bloody ground Room for one brief embrace, And pour'd forth on each other's neck Such tears as warrior need not check.

The mists o'er boyhood's memory spread All melted with those tears; The faces of the holy dead Rose as in vanish'd years; The Rhine, the Rhine, the ever bless'd, Lifted its voice in each full breast!

Oh! was it then a time to die? It was!—that not in vain The soul to Childhood's purity And peace might turn again. A ball swept forth—'twas guided well— Heart unto heart those brothers fell.

Happy, yes, happy thus to go! Bearing from Earth away Affections gifted ne'er to know A shadow—a decay, A passing touch of change or chill, A breath of aught whose breath can kill.

And they between whose sever'd souls, Once in close union tied, A gulf is set, a current rolls For ever to divide,— Well may they envy such a lot, Whose hearts yearn on—but mingle not. F. H.