Page:Landon in Literary Gazette 1823.pdf/153



Rang with the Fleet's return and victory! Men that were slumbering quietly, rose up And joined the shout; the windows gleamed with lights, The bells rang forth rejoicingly, the paths Were filled with people; even the lone street Where the poor widow dwelt, was roused, and sleep Was thought upon no more that night. Next day— A bright and sunny day it was—high flags Waved from each steeple, and green boughs were hung In the gay market-place; music was heard, Bands that struck up in triumph; and the sea Was covered with proud vessels; and the boats Went to and fro the shore, and waving hands Beckoned from crowded decks to the glad strand Where the wife waited for her husband,—maids Threw the bright curls back from their glistening eyes And looked their best,—and as the splashing oar Brought dear ones to the land, how every voice Grew musical with happiness! And there Stood that old Widow woman with the rest, Watching the ship wherein had sailed her Son. A boat came from that vessel,—heavily It toiled upon the waters, and the oars Were dipp'd in slowly. As it neared the beach, A moaning sound came from it, and a groan Burst from the lips of all the anxious there, When they looked on each ghastly countenance, For that lone boat was filled with wounded men, Bearing them to the hospital,—and then That aged Woman saw her Son. She prayed, And gained her prayer, that she might be his nurse, And take him home. He lived for many days. It soothed him so to hear his mother's voice, To breathe the fragrant air sent from the roses, The roses that were gathered one by one For him by his fond parent nurse; the last Was placed upon his pillow, and that night, That very night, he died! And he was laid In the same church-yard where his father lay,—