The Harp of Erin Containing the Poetical Works of the Late Thomas Dermody. In Two Volumes |
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THE SOLDIER'S ABSENCE,
AND RETURN. |
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 | The Harp of Erin |  |
THE SOLDIER'S ABSENCE, AND RETURN.
Lonely, by the moon's faint lustre
Trembling o'er the twilight scene,
Beauteous Mary, roam'd, sad-musing,
Wildly pale, with pensive mien!
Trembling o'er the twilight scene,
Beauteous Mary, roam'd, sad-musing,
Wildly pale, with pensive mien!
As the dear ideas, crowding
On her anguish'd thought, succeed,
Silent falls the tender tribute,
Deep the wounded feelings bleed.
On her anguish'd thought, succeed,
Silent falls the tender tribute,
Deep the wounded feelings bleed.
“Where, oh! where, reclines my soldier?
On what pillow rests thy head?
Might this poor distracted bosom,
Hold thee living, love, or dead!
On what pillow rests thy head?
Might this poor distracted bosom,
Hold thee living, love, or dead!
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Might I to thy fond tale listen,
Might I thy soft accents hear,
Smooth thy brow of every furrow,
Drop in every wound a tear!
Might I thy soft accents hear,
Smooth thy brow of every furrow,
Drop in every wound a tear!
When returning from the battle,
Might my fondness chear thy sight,
Each exploit, each deed recounting,
Thankful, through the livelong night.
Might my fondness chear thy sight,
Each exploit, each deed recounting,
Thankful, through the livelong night.
Or, at azure-dawn departing,
When shrill trumpets rend the air,
Might I fire thy breast with valour,
Might I breathe one fervent pray'r!
When shrill trumpets rend the air,
Might I fire thy breast with valour,
Might I breathe one fervent pray'r!
Here, alas! retired I linger,
Dream thy fancy'd danger's o'er;
View that face, in charming vision,
I, perchance, shall view no more.
Dream thy fancy'd danger's o'er;
View that face, in charming vision,
I, perchance, shall view no more.
Often too, sad, saddest omen!
Mid the slaughter'd heaps I rove,
With hurried hand, each corse unveiling,
Terror leading anxious love!
Mid the slaughter'd heaps I rove,
With hurried hand, each corse unveiling,
Terror leading anxious love!
Pow'r of pity, whose broad target
Throws the rapid sword aside,
Catch, oh! catch each fatal bullet,
Be his champion, be his guide!
Throws the rapid sword aside,
Catch, oh! catch each fatal bullet,
Be his champion, be his guide!
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Instant, as she spoke, advancing,
Lo! her blooming hero came;
Sweetly fierce in manly beauty,
Crown'd with conquest, wealth, and fame.
Lo! her blooming hero came;
Sweetly fierce in manly beauty,
Crown'd with conquest, wealth, and fame.
Lock'd awhile, in soft embraces,
Sacred intercourse! they lay;
'Till the early drum rebounding,
Loudly call'd the welcome day.
Sacred intercourse! they lay;
'Till the early drum rebounding,
Loudly call'd the welcome day.
| The Harp of Erin | |