Page:New Yorker Obituary.pdf/8



has left the kindling sky— A lovely northern light; How many planets are on high! But that has left the night.

I miss its bright familiar face; It was a friend to me, Associate with my native place, And those beyond the sea.

It rose upon our English sky, Shone o'er our English land, And brought back many a loving eye, And many a gentle hand.

It seemed to answer to my thought: It called the past to mind, And with its welcome presence brought All I had left behind.

The voyage it lights no longer ends Soon, on a foreign shore; How can I but recall the friends Whom I may see no more?

Fresh from the pain it was to part— How could I bear the pain? Yet strong the omen in my heart That says—We meet again;

Meet with a deeper, dearer love; For absence shows the worth Of all from which we then remove— Friends, home, and native earth.

Thou lovely polar star!—mine eyes Still turned the first on thee, Till I have felt a sad surprise That none looked up with me.

But thou hast sunk beneath the wave, Thy radiant place unknown; I seem to stand beside a grave, And stand by it alone.

Farewell!—Ah, would to me were given A power upon thy light: What words upon our English heaven Thy loving rays should write!

Kind messages of love and hope Upon thy rays should be; Thy shining orbit would have scope Scarcely enough for me.

Oh, fancy vain as it is fond, And little needed too!— My friends! I need not look beyond My heart to look for you!