The works of Mrs. Hemans With a memoir of her life, by her sister. In seven volumes |
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 | The works of Mrs. Hemans |  |
71
SISTER! SINCE I MET THEE LAST.
Sister! since I met thee last,
O'er thy brow a change hath past,
In the softness of thine eyes,
Deep and still a shadow lies;
From thy voice there thrills a tone,
Never to thy childhood known;
Through thy soul a storm hath moved,
—Gentle sister, thou hast loved!
O'er thy brow a change hath past,
In the softness of thine eyes,
Deep and still a shadow lies;
From thy voice there thrills a tone,
Never to thy childhood known;
Through thy soul a storm hath moved,
—Gentle sister, thou hast loved!
Yes! thy varying cheek hath caught
Hues too bright from troubled thought;
Far along the wandering stream,
Thou art follow'd by a dream:
In the woods and valleys lone
Music haunts thee, not thine own:
Wherefore fall thy tears like rain?
—Sister, thou hast loved in vain!
Hues too bright from troubled thought;
Far along the wandering stream,
Thou art follow'd by a dream:
In the woods and valleys lone
Music haunts thee, not thine own:
Wherefore fall thy tears like rain?
—Sister, thou hast loved in vain!
Tell me not the tale, my flower!
On my bosom pour that shower!
Tell me not of kind thoughts wasted;
Tell me not of young hopes blasted;
Wring not forth one burning word,
Let thy heart no more be stirr'd!
Home alone can give thee rest.
—Weep, sweet sister, on my breast!
On my bosom pour that shower!
Tell me not of kind thoughts wasted;
Tell me not of young hopes blasted;
Wring not forth one burning word,
Let thy heart no more be stirr'd!
Home alone can give thee rest.
—Weep, sweet sister, on my breast!
| The works of Mrs. Hemans | |