Page:From Songs of the Affections 1840.pdf/17



Hark! in the trembling leaves Mysterious whispers: hark! a rushing sound Sweeps through yon twilight depth!—e'en now they come, They throng to greet their guest! and who are they Rejoicing each with each in stately joy, As a king's children gather'd for the hour Of some high festival! Exultingly, And kindred-like, and godlike, on they pass, The glorious wandering shapes! aged and young, Proud men and royal women! Lo my race, My sire's ancestral race!