Of the heart's intercourse, our own fireside!
I do remember in my early youth
I parted from its circle; how I pined
With happy recollections, they to me
Were sickness and deep sorrow; how I thought
Of the strange tale, the laugh, the gentle smile
Breathing of love, that wiled the night away.
The hour of absence past, I was again
With those who loved me. What a beauty dwelt
In each accustomed face! what music hung
On each familiar voice! We circled in
Our meeting ring of happiness. If e'er
This life has bliss, I knew and felt it then!—
But there was one Ronald remembered not,
Yet 'twas a creature beautiful as Hope,
With eyes blue as the harebell when the dew
Sparkles upon its azure leaves; a cheek
Fresh as a mountain-rose, but delicate
As rainbow colours, and as changeful too.
"The orphan Ellen, have you then forgot
"Your laughing playmate?" Ronald would have clasp'd
The maiden to his heart, but she shrank back:
A crimson blush and tearful lids belied
Her light tone, as she bade him not forget
So soon his former friends. But the next morn
Were other tears than those sweet ones that come
Of the full heart's o'erflowings. He was given,
The loved, the wanderer, to their prayers at last;
But he was now so changed, there was no trace
Left of his former self; the glow of health,
Of youth, was gone, and in his sallow cheek
And faded eye decay sat visible;—
