Page:Home; or, The unlost paradise (IA homeorunlostpara00palm).pdf/17

 A thousand hallowed memories, fondly kept, That waken oft afresh. E'en while he treads, With heedful musings, old historic ground, Rich with the spoils of Time, where crumbling stand The hoary monuments of glories dead; Or climbs 'mid Alpine wonders, and surveys Rude wilds where Nature all untamed abides; In search of thee his truant thought will stray. Or if he tempt the main, far, far away Swept by the breeze across the heaving deep, Fixed on his lonely watch at midnight hour, The watery waste around, the stars above, Back o'er the flood he roams to visit thee. For thee the captive sighs in the still gloom Of his dim cell. The warrior grim, what time He treads the battle-field where marshalled hosts Await the bloody fray—pride on his brow And glory on his crest—lets fall a tear, While o'er him steal, like flute-notes faintly heard, Remembrances thick-coming of thy joys. Dear rest and centre thou of faithful hearts,