Page:The Poetical Works of William Motherwell, 1849.djvu/126

 But what of that? Year after year, In every battle's shock, Or 'mid the storms of ocean drear, Aly heart clung to this rock; Was with its very being blent, Sucking from it brave nourishment.

All life, all feeling, every thought Was centred in this spot; The Unforgetting being wrought Upon the Un forgot. Time fleeted on; but time ne'er dimmed The picturings of the heart — Freshly as when they first were limned, Truth's fadeless tints would start; Yes! Avheresoe'er Life's bark might steer, This changeless heart was anchored here.

Ha! laugh, sweet Flesh and Blood, outright, Nor smother honest glee, Your time is now; but ere this night Hath travelled over me,