Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 25 1829.pdf/15



Wie herrlich die sonne dort untergeht! Da ich Noch ein Bube war—war's mein Lieblingsgedanke, Wie sie zu leben, zu sterben wie sie. .

Like thee to die, thou Sun!—My boyhood's dream, Was this; and now my spirit, with thy beam, Ebbs from a field of victory!—yet the hour Bears back upon me, with a torrent's power, Nature's deep longings:—Oh! for some kind eye, Wherein to meet Love's fervent farewell gaze; Some breast, to pillow Life's last agony; Some voice, to speak of Hope and brighter days, Beyond the Pass of Shadows!—But I go, I, that have been so loved, go hence alone; And ye, now gathering round my own hearth's glow, Sweet friends! it may be that a softer tone, Even in this moment, with your laughing glee, Mingles its feeling while ye speak of me: Of me, your soldier, midst the mountains lying, On the red banner of his battles dying, Far, far away! And oh! your parting prayer! Will not his name be fondly murmur'd there?— It will!—a blessing on that holy hearth! Though clouds are darkening to o'ercast its mirth. Mother! I may not hear thy voice again; Sisters! ye watch to greet my step in vain; Young brother, fare thee well!—on each dear head, Blessing and love a thousand fold be shed, My soul's last earthly breathings!—May your home Smile for you ever!—May no winter come, No world, between your hearts!—May even your tears, For my sake, full of long-remember'd years, Quicken the true affections that entwine Your lives in one bright bond!—I may not sleep Amidst our Fathers, where those tears might shine Over my slumbers; yet your love will keep My memory living in th' ancestral halls, Where shame hath never trod.—The dark night falls, And I depart.—The Brave are gone to rest, The brothers of my combats; on the breast Of the red field they reap'd:—their work is done— Thou, too, art set—farewell, farewell, thou Sun! The last lone watcher of the bloody sod, Offers a trusting spirit up to God.