 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
TO MRS. --- ON HER EMBARKING FOR HAVRE.
Lady, we part—I do not say farewell!
So cold a word my heart will not allow;
'Tis breathed too often when no bosoms swell
With such emotions as oppress me now;
For I remember well when first we met,
And note the years we since have seen depart,
By acts of kindness I can ne'er forget,
Graved deeply on the tablets of my heart.
So cold a word my heart will not allow;
'Tis breathed too often when no bosoms swell
With such emotions as oppress me now;
For I remember well when first we met,
And note the years we since have seen depart,
By acts of kindness I can ne'er forget,
Graved deeply on the tablets of my heart.
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This monitor ne'er sleeps; but I've another,
Who hourly breathes her grateful prayers for thee;
For kindness to my children—it is their mother,
Whose blessings will attend thee on the sea.
She prays to Him who stilled the boisterous wave
Of Galilee, and hushed the tempest wild;
She prays that His kind providence may save
The widowed mother and her darling child.
Who hourly breathes her grateful prayers for thee;
For kindness to my children—it is their mother,
Whose blessings will attend thee on the sea.
She prays to Him who stilled the boisterous wave
Of Galilee, and hushed the tempest wild;
She prays that His kind providence may save
The widowed mother and her darling child.
Lady, we part—and here thy friends are doomed
To mourn in tears thy absence for awhile;
But not with hopeless grief, for 't is presumed,
A happy meeting yet will light our smile.
Go, then, where love invites thee—Gallia fair,
Land of the vine and sweet perennial flowers;
Thy children's fond embrace awaits thee there;
Receive them, then, and fly again to ours.
To mourn in tears thy absence for awhile;
But not with hopeless grief, for 't is presumed,
A happy meeting yet will light our smile.
Go, then, where love invites thee—Gallia fair,
Land of the vine and sweet perennial flowers;
Thy children's fond embrace awaits thee there;
Receive them, then, and fly again to ours.
No prayers can shield thee from each treach'rous gale,
Or were this trifle blest with magic power,
Thy venturous bark should have a prosperous sail,
While memory wakened every lonely hour—
Recalling thoughts with us again to dwell,
When rough old ocean turbulently raves—
With us who feel, but can not say farewell!
To those we love upon the stormy wave.
Or were this trifle blest with magic power,
Thy venturous bark should have a prosperous sail,
While memory wakened every lonely hour—
Recalling thoughts with us again to dwell,
When rough old ocean turbulently raves—
With us who feel, but can not say farewell!
To those we love upon the stormy wave.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |