Page:Hemans Miscellaneous Poetry 4.pdf/16



The voices that have mingled here now speak another tongue, Or breathe, perchance, to alien ears the songs their mother sung; Sad, strangely sad, in stranger lands, must sound each household tone— The Hearth, the Hearth is desolate—the bright fire quenched and gone!

But are they speaking, singing yet, as in their days of glee? Those voices, are they lovely still? still sweet on land or sea? Oh! some are hushed, and some are changed—and never shall one strain Blend their fraternal cadences triumphantly again!

And of the hearts that here were linked by long remembered years, Alas! the brother knows not now where fall the sister's tears! One haply revels at the feast, while one may droop alone; For broken is the household chain—the bright fire quenched and gone!

Not so!—'tis not a broken chain—thy memory binds them still, Thou holy Hearth of other days, though silent now and chill! The smiles, the tears, the rites beheld by thine attesting stone, Have yet a living power to mark thy children for thine own.

The father's voice—the mother's prayer—though called from earth away— With music rising from the dead, their spirits yet shall sway; And by the past, and by the grave, the parted yet are one, Though the loved Hearth be desolate, the bright fire quenched and gone. F. H.