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Where far away the jasmines dwell,
Are tidings of the citron's home !
The sailor at the helm they meet,
Upspringing, 'midst the waves to greet
That woo him, from the mournful main,
Back to her glorious bowers again.
They woo him, whispering lovely tales
And fount's bright gleam in island-vales
Across his lone ship's wake they bring
A vision and a glow of spring !
And oh! ye masters of the lay !
That meet us on life's weary way
Yes! o'er the spirit thus they bear
A current of celestial air
Their power is from the brighter clime
They call us with a voice divine
Our vows of youth at many a shrine
—Welcome, high thought and holy strain,
That make us Truth's and Heaven's again!”
* Written immediately after reading the “Remarks on the Character and Writings of Milton,” in the Christian
TO ONE OF THE AUTHOR'S CHILDREN
ON HIS BIRTHDAY, 27 AUGUST, 1825.
Thou wak'st from happy sleep to play
Of summer and of joy.
Thou hast no heavy thought or dream
Long be it thus—life's early stream
Yet ere the cares of life lie dim
From whom each pure thought springs:
So in the onward vale of tears,
He will remember thee.
TO A YOUNGER CHILD
ON A SIMILAR OCCASION, 17 SEPTEMBER, 1825.
Where sucks the bee now 2–Summer is flying,
Yet happy, fair boy is thy natal day.
For love bids it welcome, the love which hath smil'd
AN HOUR OF ROMANCE.
THERE were thick leaves above me and around,
Swept past me with a tone of summer hours,
* The Talisman—Tales of the Crusaders.