 | Rhymes with reason and without |  |
191
THE MINER'S RETURN.
Ah, who shall tell of the miner's thought,
As his native land rises before him,
Her mountains in mist of the distance wrought,
And her atmosphere floating o'er him!
As his native land rises before him,
Her mountains in mist of the distance wrought,
And her atmosphere floating o'er him!
He has toiled in hope of a glad return
To bless whom his parting gave sorrow;
And his soul with enkindled hope doth yearn,
As he thinks on the near to-morrow.
To bless whom his parting gave sorrow;
And his soul with enkindled hope doth yearn,
As he thinks on the near to-morrow.
The night settles down on the ocean wide,
And the light-house fire is beaming,
And wild as the ocean and swift as its tide
Are the dreams the miner is dreaming.
And the light-house fire is beaming,
And wild as the ocean and swift as its tide
Are the dreams the miner is dreaming.
Fond fancy bringeth a bright array
Of joyful faces near him,
A father's blessing, and the gladdening play
Of a mother's smile, to cheer him;
Of joyful faces near him,
A father's blessing, and the gladdening play
Of a mother's smile, to cheer him;
A wife's embrace, and the smile and tear
That speak a blissful sadness,
And the gleesome shout of children dear,
In childhood's boisterous gladness.
That speak a blissful sadness,
And the gleesome shout of children dear,
In childhood's boisterous gladness.
192
And the welcome grasp of friendly hands,
And friendly voices, greet him;
Each well-known tree by the way-side stands,
Like an old friend out to meet him.
And friendly voices, greet him;
Each well-known tree by the way-side stands,
Like an old friend out to meet him.
No adverse cloud broods o'er the scene,
With ills portent to lower,
But a bow of hope spans the sky serene,
As might follow a golden shower.
With ills portent to lower,
But a bow of hope spans the sky serene,
As might follow a golden shower.
And golden towers in golden light
Shine rich in golden glory,
And golden spires like fingers write
In gold the golden story.
Shine rich in golden glory,
And golden spires like fingers write
In gold the golden story.
And golden founts, with ceaseless play,
Surpass that fountain olden,
Whose waters broke in golden spray
On sands whose grains were golden.
Surpass that fountain olden,
Whose waters broke in golden spray
On sands whose grains were golden.
And golden bright are the leaves of the trees,
That with golden blossoms mingle,
And the song of the birds and hum of the bees
Have a sort of golden jingle.
That with golden blossoms mingle,
And the song of the birds and hum of the bees
Have a sort of golden jingle.
And he laughed aloud in his gorgeous dream,
Unmarred by doubt or sorrow,
And far away to his waking did seem
That near approaching morrow.
Unmarred by doubt or sorrow,
And far away to his waking did seem
That near approaching morrow.
193
It dawns, and 'neath the golden sun
Shine rock, and tree, and tower;
The long-wished goal is nearly won,
His home he will see in an hour.
Shine rock, and tree, and tower;
The long-wished goal is nearly won,
His home he will see in an hour.
And then perchance will his ardent hope
Come lost in a blest fruition,
And as bright a day of promise ope
As e'er graced his sleeping vision.
Come lost in a blest fruition,
And as bright a day of promise ope
As e'er graced his sleeping vision.
But sad was the story that met his ear:
His parents by death were stricken,
And his children in damps of poverty drear
Like blighted plants did sicken;
His parents by death were stricken,
And his children in damps of poverty drear
Like blighted plants did sicken;
And their hollow eyes glared on his anguished face,
As they told the tale how their mother
Had left them long the heirs of disgrace,
And fled away with another.
As they told the tale how their mother
Had left them long the heirs of disgrace,
And fled away with another.
Then the golden dream was all dispelled,
And he bowed his head in sorrow,
And wished that an ocean grave had withheld
That much yearned for to-morrow.
And he bowed his head in sorrow,
And wished that an ocean grave had withheld
That much yearned for to-morrow.
| Rhymes with reason and without | |