 | Julian Fane, Ad matrem |  |
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VIII.
[Lo! in the East the clouded grey]
Lo! in the East the clouded grey
Begins to change its sullen hue,
And Morning, with mild eyes of blue,
Smiles on a happy, nascent day.
Begins to change its sullen hue,
And Morning, with mild eyes of blue,
Smiles on a happy, nascent day.
Thy natal day, which finds me now
Far from thee—on a foreign strand;
I cannot take thy gracious hand,
Nor press my blessing on thy brow.
Far from thee—on a foreign strand;
I cannot take thy gracious hand,
Nor press my blessing on thy brow.
The salt sea waves between us swell
And part us—but, though rolling wide,
Our hearts they never can divide,
For love is indivisible!
And part us—but, though rolling wide,
Our hearts they never can divide,
For love is indivisible!
High o'er the ocean's liquid space
A triple rainbow arch I see,
It spans across from me to thee,
A loving heart at either base:
A triple rainbow arch I see,
It spans across from me to thee,
A loving heart at either base:
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The rainbow of our Love! which blends
Ten thousand lesser loves in one,
Which links the Mother to her Son,
Which joins two sympathetic friends.
Ten thousand lesser loves in one,
Which links the Mother to her Son,
Which joins two sympathetic friends.
And while beneath the ocean's roar,
(Oh! human work divinely wrought!)
The lightning message, swift as thought,
Darts with the news from shore to shore;
(Oh! human work divinely wrought!)
The lightning message, swift as thought,
Darts with the news from shore to shore;
Our souls more swiftly meet above,
And, strong in spiritual might,
Flash, pathless as the rays of light,
From shore to shore with thoughts of Love.
And, strong in spiritual might,
Flash, pathless as the rays of light,
From shore to shore with thoughts of Love.
So I, this day can breathe on thee
My blessing, though I be not near,
And, though I hear not, seem to hear
Thy blessing spoken back to me;
My blessing, though I be not near,
And, though I hear not, seem to hear
Thy blessing spoken back to me;
Can, in clear thought, beside thee stand,
And touch with reverent lips thy face,
And hold thee in a dear embrace
Affectionately, hand in hand.
And touch with reverent lips thy face,
And hold thee in a dear embrace
Affectionately, hand in hand.
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God keep thee! May the rolling years
Crown with fresh grace thy blameless life!
God keep from thee all cause of strife,
And wipe away the source of tears!
Crown with fresh grace thy blameless life!
God keep from thee all cause of strife,
And wipe away the source of tears!
And those high Powers to whom 'tis given
To guard the pure of soul on earth,
Who tend upon thee since thy birth
And watch thy progress up to heaven,
To guard the pure of soul on earth,
Who tend upon thee since thy birth
And watch thy progress up to heaven,
Save from all harm thy sacred head,
Bestrew with flowers thy thornless way,
Attend upon thy steps by day,
And guard with angel-wings thy bed!
Bestrew with flowers thy thornless way,
Attend upon thy steps by day,
And guard with angel-wings thy bed!
And I, what offering can I bring,
To lay this day before thy feet,
What gift of fragrant incense sweet
Beside the votive song I sing?
To lay this day before thy feet,
What gift of fragrant incense sweet
Beside the votive song I sing?
I know not—but as here I stand,
Here on the Gallic shore, in thought,
Thinking of what I might have wrought
To please thee in a foreign land:
Here on the Gallic shore, in thought,
Thinking of what I might have wrought
To please thee in a foreign land:
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From out my bosom swift to thee
There flies, or seems to fly, a bird
That takes her silent flight unheard,
And sweeps towards thee o'er the sea.
There flies, or seems to fly, a bird
That takes her silent flight unheard,
And sweeps towards thee o'er the sea.
The Dove of Peace, with wings unfurled,
Glad with the olive branch she goes!
She bears unto thy heart repose,
And brings back Peace to all the world.
Glad with the olive branch she goes!
She bears unto thy heart repose,
And brings back Peace to all the world.
Oh! may thy peace be perfect rest!
And, oh! may all men cease from strife,
And, emulating thy sweet life,
Walk in the ways God loveth best!
And, oh! may all men cease from strife,
And, emulating thy sweet life,
Walk in the ways God loveth best!
Paris; March 13th, 1856.
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