 | Three hours ; or, the vigil of love : and other poems |  |
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THE LIGHT OF HOME.
My son, thou wilt dream the world is fair,
And thy spirit will sigh to roam,
And thou must go;—but never, when there,
Forget the light of Home!
And thy spirit will sigh to roam,
And thou must go;—but never, when there,
Forget the light of Home!
Though pleasure may smile with a ray more bright,
It dazzles to lead astray;
Like the meteor's flash, 't will deepen the night
When treading thy lonely way:—
It dazzles to lead astray;
Like the meteor's flash, 't will deepen the night
When treading thy lonely way:—
But the hearth of home has a constant flame,
And pure as vestal fire,—
'T will burn, 't will burn for ever the same,
For nature feeds the pyre.
And pure as vestal fire,—
'T will burn, 't will burn for ever the same,
For nature feeds the pyre.
The sea of ambition is tempest-tossed,
And thy hopes may vanish like foam,—
When sails are shivered and compass lost,
Then look to the light of Home!
And thy hopes may vanish like foam,—
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Then look to the light of Home!
And there, like a star through the midnight cloud,
Thou shalt see the beacon bright;
For never, till shining on thy shroud,
Can be quenched its holy light.
Thou shalt see the beacon bright;
For never, till shining on thy shroud,
Can be quenched its holy light.
The sun of fame may gild the name,
But the heart ne'er felt its ray;
And fashion's smiles that rich ones claim,
Are beams of a wintry day:
But the heart ne'er felt its ray;
And fashion's smiles that rich ones claim,
Are beams of a wintry day:
How cold and dim those beams would be,
Should Life's poor wanderer come!—
My son, when the world is dark to thee,
Then turn to the light of Home.
Should Life's poor wanderer come!—
My son, when the world is dark to thee,
Then turn to the light of Home.
| Three hours ; or, the vigil of love : and other poems | |