Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/95

Rh Her time-worn cable from the wilder'd mind, Blotting the chart whereon it loved to gaze Mid the dim ocean of returnless years.— —They brought the trophies forth which he had won, And spread them in his sight,—a nation's thanks Graved on that massy ore which misers love:— But vacantly he gazed, and caught no trace Of lost delight.—The worldling's glance might scan, In the slow changes of that saintly brow, Nought save the wreck of intellect, and scorn Such humbling picture; but an angel's eye Train'd in the value of the gold of Heaven, Would differently interpret. —By his side Was God's blest book, and on its open page Gleam'd forth the name of Him of Nazareth.— Quick o'er his brow the light of gladness came, While on those leaves his wither'd lip he laid, And tears burst forth,—yes,—tears of rushing joy, For this had been the banner of his soul Through all her pilgrimage. —To his dull ear I spake the message of a friend who walk'd With him in glory's path, and nobly shared That fellowship in danger and in toil Which knits pure souls together.—But the name Restored no image of that cherish'd form In youth beloved.—I should have said farewell, In brokenness of heart,—but up he rose And with a seerlike majesty pour'd forth His holy adjuration to the God Who o'er time's broken wave had borne his bark