 | The miscellaneous writings of Henry Ware |  |
A SISTER'S LOVE.
A sister's love! I dwell upon the theme—
The only love on earth to which the earth
Has given no taint of self-regardful care.
In even the mother's breast, a selfish fear
Throbs with the pulse of pure maternal joy,
And her own image mingles with the scene
Which Hope makes radiant with her boy's renown.
But in a sister's breast affection lives,
All pure, unselfish, looking but to him.
The only love on earth to which the earth
Has given no taint of self-regardful care.
In even the mother's breast, a selfish fear
Throbs with the pulse of pure maternal joy,
And her own image mingles with the scene
Which Hope makes radiant with her boy's renown.
But in a sister's breast affection lives,
All pure, unselfish, looking but to him.
Angel for angel glows with such regard,
Thus whole, deep, self-forgetting. Bowers of heaven
Witness it in the cherubs' changeless loves;
Earth sees it in a sister's heart alone.
Devoted, passionless, unwearied—strong
To bear, exhaustless in its sympathy—
True in all change—unchilled by coldness. Scorn,
Neglect, and rudeness such as man's poor pride
Sometimes returns for all the gentle cares
And sacrifice of sisterly regard,—
These never move her. Patient to the last,
She watches through an unrewarded life,
And smooths the pillow of ungrateful death.
But when the brother knows and owns her worth,
Tell me, what fellowship on earth like theirs?
See what a radiance glows upon their path!
Such as thy hand has drawn, illustrious bard,
In Jane de Montfort—image unapproached
Of noble tenderness—or such as stood
In tears and woe at Korner's early tomb;
Or sat, through days of waywardness and love,
By Elia's side, to cheer a languid hope,
And soothe th' unequal pilgrimage of pain.
And always thus—beneath a thousand roofs,
It toils, waits, watches, and imparts a hue
Of holiest heaven to low humanity.
Thus whole, deep, self-forgetting. Bowers of heaven
Witness it in the cherubs' changeless loves;
Earth sees it in a sister's heart alone.
Devoted, passionless, unwearied—strong
To bear, exhaustless in its sympathy—
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Neglect, and rudeness such as man's poor pride
Sometimes returns for all the gentle cares
And sacrifice of sisterly regard,—
These never move her. Patient to the last,
She watches through an unrewarded life,
And smooths the pillow of ungrateful death.
But when the brother knows and owns her worth,
Tell me, what fellowship on earth like theirs?
See what a radiance glows upon their path!
Such as thy hand has drawn, illustrious bard,
In Jane de Montfort—image unapproached
Of noble tenderness—or such as stood
In tears and woe at Korner's early tomb;
Or sat, through days of waywardness and love,
By Elia's side, to cheer a languid hope,
And soothe th' unequal pilgrimage of pain.
And always thus—beneath a thousand roofs,
It toils, waits, watches, and imparts a hue
Of holiest heaven to low humanity.
| The miscellaneous writings of Henry Ware | |