 | The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth |  |
92
RETURNING HOME.
No longer shall fortune be whelmed with invective,
If my journey the goddess but bless with her smile;
I heed not its length, while I view in perspective
The sharer, rewarder, and end of my toil.
If my journey the goddess but bless with her smile;
I heed not its length, while I view in perspective
The sharer, rewarder, and end of my toil.
Ah! still on my vision the object increases!
The cottage of peace and affection I spy!
Hope smiles, as my bosom, unconscious, releases
The murmur of wishes respired in a sigh.
The cottage of peace and affection I spy!
Hope smiles, as my bosom, unconscious, releases
The murmur of wishes respired in a sigh.
Now, now I am blest!—But, ah! language it fails me,
No pencil can paint love's ecstatic alarms:
'T is she that approaches—'t is Catharine hails me,
She gazes! she smiles!—I am pressed in her arms.
No pencil can paint love's ecstatic alarms:
'T is she that approaches—'t is Catharine hails me,
She gazes! she smiles!—I am pressed in her arms.
| The poetical works of Samuel Woodworth | |