Page:Hemans in Blackwood's Edinburgh Magazine 34 1833.pdf/23



Once, when I look'd along the laughing earth, Up the blue heavens, and through the middle air, Joyfully ringing with the sky-lark's song, I wept! and thought how sad for one so young To bid farewell to so much happiness. But Christ hath call'd me from the lower world. Delightful though it be.

Mother. Hush, lightly tread! still tranquilly she sleeps, As, when a babe, I rock'd her on my heart. I've watch'd, suspending ev'n my breath, in fear To break the heavenly spell. Move silently! And oh! those flowers! dear Jessy, bear them hence— Dost thou forget the passion of quick tears That shook her trembling frame, when last we brought The roses to her couch? Dost thou not know What sudden longings for the woods and hills, Where once her free steps moved so buoyantly, These leaves and odours with strange influence wake In her fast-kindled soul?

Jessy.Oh! she would pine, Were the wild scents and glowing hues withheld, Mother! far more than now her spirit yearns For the blue sky, the singing-birds and brooks, And swell of breathing turf, whose lightsome spring Their blooms recall.

Lilian (raising herself.) Is that my Jessy's voice? It woke me not, sweet mother! I had lain Silently, visited by waking dreams, Yet conscious of thy brooding watchfulness, Long ere I heard the sound. Hath she brought flowers? Nay, fear not now thy fond child's waywardness, My thoughtful mother!—in her chasten'd soul The passion-colour'd images of life, Which, with their sudden startling flush awoke So oft those burning tears, have died away; And Night is there,—still, solemn, holy Night, With all her stars, and with the gentle tune Of many fountains, low and musical, By day unheard.

Mother.And wherefore Night, my child? Thou art a creature all of life and dawn, And from thy couch of sickness yet shall rise, And walk forth with the day-spring.

Lilian.Hope it not! Dream it no more, my mother!—there are things Known but to God, and to the parting soul, Which feels His thrilling summons. But my words Too much o'ershadow those kind loving eyes.