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This was a mother's parting with her child, A young meek Bride on whom fair fortune smil’d, And wooed her with a voice of love away From childhood's home; yet there, with fond delay She linger'd on the threshold, heard the note Of her caged bird thro' trellis'd rose-leaves float, And fell upon her mother's neck, and wept, Whilst old remembrances, that long had slept, Gush'd o'er her soul, and many a vanish'd day. As in one picture traced, before her lay.

But the farewell was said; and on the deep, When its breast heav'd in sunset's golden sleep, With a calm'd heart, young Madeline ere long Pour'd forth her own sweet solemn vesper-song, Breathing of home: thro' stillness heard afar, And duly rising with the first pale star, That voice was on the waters; till at last Tho sounding ocean-solitudes were pass’d,