 | The path of sorrow, or, the lament of youth |  |
119
LET MY NAME STILL SURVIVE.
“For there is that within me which shall tire
Torture and time, and breathe when I expire.”
Byron.
Torture and time, and breathe when I expire.”
Byron.
I.
Let my name still survive, Oh! my home!Where I wandered in childhood and glee;
Oh! remember me, mother and father, alone,
On the land or the wide rolling sea!
Let my name be the converse of love,
Till I visit the home of my birth;
Like the virtue and swiftness in Noah's sweet dove,
I will fly to the spot of my earth;—
In adversity, sorrow, remorse or regret!
My soul shall revere thee, and never forget.
II.
Those kindred—companions I loved—Whom I honored, caressed and endeared!
When I think I have left them, in sorrow I'm moved,—
For, by them, I was loved and revered
In the spring of my life and my joy,
When my rainbow was seen in the sky;
In my eden I bloomed as a dutiful boy,
And no tear could be seen in my eye;
But my glory was brilliant in all, but regret,
Oh! that star of my boyhood, I cannot forget.
III.
On the lawn and the landscape so dear,When my verdue in summer did shine,
I rejoiced in the Iris of blessings sincere,
Which clothed me in vest'ments divine!
O'er the hillocks and dales of my youth,
Where the Sackle and Eglantine grew—
Whose sombre once shaded the pilgrim of truth—
Recalls to my vision the glory I knew;—
Where my bosom and heart never felt a regret!
120
IV.
Though blight, desolation and pain,—Though sorrows and troubles annoy!
When forced on the land, on the sea, or the main—
Bereft of fruition and joy!
Let the poplar, the elm, and the yew,
Whose boughs shaded friendship and love;
Be preserved, ever young, from the frost and the dew,
Which showers from Hesper above;—
When embracings, society, friendship have met,
Then, my home and my country shall banish regret.
V.
Get a stone or a flinty white rock,—Let thy pen be an iron in grain,—
Oh! engrave all my vows, as a lamb of the flock!
Till I meet and embrace thee again;
For my heart is engraven with steel!
And my soul, I will vouchsafe to thee;
For I cannot such friendship and glory conceal,
But I pay them with kindness to thee—
Oh! my parents, my parents, how can I forget,
Such a starlight of glory, o'erflowing regret!
VI.
In the wilderness there is a tree—In the bower there springs up a vine—
And my soul in its mystical visions can see,
When my heart shall embrace them as mine.
Though the Bark of my glory is shivered,
And has sunk as a rock in the wave!
Though my soul to regret and remorse is delivered—
Yet, it never shall dig me a grave!
For my heart shall not bleed, nor my cheeks remain wet,
But my candle shall burn, till I banish regret.
| The path of sorrow, or, the lament of youth | |