Page:The Domestic Affections, and Other Poems.pdf/158



While war's red lightnings desolate the ball, And thrones and empires in destruction fall; Then, calm as evening on the silvery wave, When the wind slumbers in the ocean-cave, She dwells, unruffled, in her bow'r of rest, Her empire, home!—her throne, affection's breast!

For her, sweet nature wears her loveliest blooms, And softer sun-shine ev'ry scene illumes. When spring awakes the spirit of the breeze, Whose light wing undulates the sleeping seas; When summer, waving her creative wand, Bids verdure smile, and glowing life expand; Or autumn's pencil sheds, with magic trace, O'er fading loveliness, a moon-light grace; Oh! still for her, thro' Nature's boundless reign, No charm is lost, no beauty blooms in vain; While mental peace, o'er ev'ry prospect bright, Throws mellowing tints, and harmonizing light!