Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 24 1828.pdf/2



passing hence, my brother! Oh! my earliest friend, farewell! Thou'rt leaving me without thy voice, In a lonely home to dwell; And from the hills, and from the hearth, And from the household tree, With thee departs the lingering mirth, The brightness goes with thee.

But thou, my friend, my brother! Thou'rt speeding to the shore Where the dirge-like tone of parting words, Shall smite the soul no more! And thou wilt see our holy dead, The lost on earth and main; Into the sheaf of kindred hearts Thou wilt be bound again!

Tell thou our friend of boyhood, That yet his name is heard On the blue mountains, whence his youth Pass'd like a swift bright bird. The light of his exulting brow, The vision of his glee, Are on me still—oh! still I trust That smile again to see.

And tell our fair young sister, The rose cut down in spring, That yet my gushing soul is fill'd    With lays she loved to sing. Her soft deep eyes look through my dreams, Tender and sadly sweet; Tell her my heart within me burns Once more that gaze to meet!

And tell our white-hair'd father, That in the paths he trode, The child he loved, the last on earth, Yet walks, and worships God. Say, that his last fond blessing yet Rests on my soul like dew, And by its hallowing might I trust Once more his face to view.

And tell our gentle mother, That o'er her grave I pour The sorrows of my spirit forth, As on her breast of yore! Happy thou art, that soon, how soon! Our good and bright will see; Oh! brother, brother! may I dwell Ere long with them and thee! F. H.