Fugitive Poetry. 1600–1878/Linger not long

Linger Not Long.

Linger not long! Home is not home without thee, Its dearest tokens only make me mourn;Oh! let its memory, like a chain about thee, Gently compel and hasten thy return.           Linger not long!

Linger not long! Though crowds should woo thy staying, Bethink thee, can the mirth of friends, though dear,Compensate for the grief thy long delaying Costs the sad heart that sighs to have thee here?           Linger not long!

Linger not long! How shall I watch thy coming, As evening shadows stretch o'er moor and dell—When the wild bee hath ceased her busy humming, And silence hangs on all things like a spell?           Linger not long!

How shall I watch for thee when fears grow stronger, As night draws dark and darker on the hill?How shall I weep, when I can watch no longer? Oh! thou art absent—art thou absent still?           Linger not long!

Yet though I grieve not, though the eye that seeth thee Gazeth through tears that make its splendour dull,For oh! I sometimes fear, when thou art with me, My cup of happiness is all too full!           Linger not long!

Haste—haste thee home unto thy mountain dwelling, Haste as a bird unto its peaceful nest!Haste as a skiff—when tempests wild are swelling, Flies to its haven of securest rest!—           Linger not long!