The works of Mrs. Hemans With a memoir of her life, by her sister. In seven volumes |
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TO MY ELDEST BROTHER |
 | The works of Mrs. Hemans |  |
339
TO MY ELDEST BROTHER
How many a day, in various hues array'd,
Bright with gay sunshine, or eclipsed with shade,
How many an hour, on silent wing is past,
O my loved Brother! since we saw thee last!
Since then has childhood ripen'd into youth,
And fancy's dreams have fled from sober truth;
Her splendid fabrics melting into air,
As sage experience waved the wand of care!
Yet still thine absence wakes the tender sigh,
And the tear trembles in affection's eye!
When shall we meet again?—with glowing ray,
Heart-soothing hope illumes some future day;
Checks the sad thought, beguiles the starting tear,
And sings benignly still—that day is near!
She, with bright eye, and soul-bewitching voice,
Wins us to smile, inspires us to rejoice;
Tells, that the hour approaches, to restore
Our cherish'd wanderer to his home once more;
Where sacred ties his manly worth endear,
To faith still true, affection still sincere!
Then the past woes, the future's dubious lot,
In that blest meeting shall be all forgot!
And joy's full radiance gild that sun-bright hour,
Though all around th' impending storm should lower.
Bright with gay sunshine, or eclipsed with shade,
How many an hour, on silent wing is past,
O my loved Brother! since we saw thee last!
Since then has childhood ripen'd into youth,
And fancy's dreams have fled from sober truth;
Her splendid fabrics melting into air,
As sage experience waved the wand of care!
Yet still thine absence wakes the tender sigh,
And the tear trembles in affection's eye!
When shall we meet again?—with glowing ray,
Heart-soothing hope illumes some future day;
Checks the sad thought, beguiles the starting tear,
And sings benignly still—that day is near!
She, with bright eye, and soul-bewitching voice,
Wins us to smile, inspires us to rejoice;
Tells, that the hour approaches, to restore
Our cherish'd wanderer to his home once more;
Where sacred ties his manly worth endear,
To faith still true, affection still sincere!
Then the past woes, the future's dubious lot,
In that blest meeting shall be all forgot!
And joy's full radiance gild that sun-bright hour,
Though all around th' impending storm should lower.
Now distant far, amidst the intrepid host,
Albion's firm sons, on Lusitania's coast,
(That gallant band, in countless dangers tried,
Where glory's pole-star beams their constant guide,)
Say, do thy thoughts, my Brother, fondly stray
To Cambria's vales and mountains far away?
Does fancy oft in busy day-dreams roam,
And paint the greeting that awaits at home?
Does memory's pencil oft, in mellowing hue,
Dear social scenes, departed joys renew;
In softer tints delighting to retrace,
Each tender image and each well-known face?
Yes! wanderer, yes! thy spirit flies to those,
Whose love, unalter'd, warm and faithful glows.
Albion's firm sons, on Lusitania's coast,
(That gallant band, in countless dangers tried,
Where glory's pole-star beams their constant guide,)
Say, do thy thoughts, my Brother, fondly stray
To Cambria's vales and mountains far away?
Does fancy oft in busy day-dreams roam,
And paint the greeting that awaits at home?
340
Dear social scenes, departed joys renew;
In softer tints delighting to retrace,
Each tender image and each well-known face?
Yes! wanderer, yes! thy spirit flies to those,
Whose love, unalter'd, warm and faithful glows.
Oh! could that love, through life's eventful hours
Illume thy scenes and strew thy path with flowers!
Perennial joy should harmonize thy breast,
No struggle rend thee, and no cares molest!
But though our tenderness can but bestow
The wish, the hope, the prayer, averting woe;
Still shall it live, with pure, unclouded flame,
In storms, in sunshine, far and near—the same!
Still dwell enthroned within th' unvarying heart,
And firm and vital—but with life depart!
Illume thy scenes and strew thy path with flowers!
Perennial joy should harmonize thy breast,
No struggle rend thee, and no cares molest!
But though our tenderness can but bestow
The wish, the hope, the prayer, averting woe;
Still shall it live, with pure, unclouded flame,
In storms, in sunshine, far and near—the same!
Still dwell enthroned within th' unvarying heart,
And firm and vital—but with life depart!
Bronwylfa, Feb. 8th, 1811.
| The works of Mrs. Hemans | |