THE MESSENGER ROSE.
227
Each voice from the flowery desert seemed stern
To the music from whence I had come;
A stranger, and restless, I longed to return
And bathe in the sunlight of home.
To the music from whence I had come;
A stranger, and restless, I longed to return
And bathe in the sunlight of home.
"I have come to thee now, I have come from afar,
From the home of thy kindred away;
I have come from the spot which thy boyhood's proud star
Once lighted for many a day.
And well do I know what my welcome will be,
Though the exile thou should'st not retain,
Though broken and lost, I'll remain still to thee
One link in thy memory's chain!
From the home of thy kindred away;
I have come from the spot which thy boyhood's proud star
Once lighted for many a day.
And well do I know what my welcome will be,
Though the exile thou should'st not retain,
Though broken and lost, I'll remain still to thee
One link in thy memory's chain!
"The wild prairie-flower may gladden thy gaze,
Yet a void will remain in thy heart;
It cannot recall to thee boyhood's proud lays,
Nor voices to memory impart.
That potency's mine, and my power it will be
While the past with the present shall blend;
While one hope of thy youth clings in beauty to thee,
To bid each new impulse ascend.
Yet a void will remain in thy heart;
It cannot recall to thee boyhood's proud lays,
Nor voices to memory impart.
That potency's mine, and my power it will be
While the past with the present shall blend;
While one hope of thy youth clings in beauty to thee,
To bid each new impulse ascend.
"A mirror of memory to thee I'll be,
Whence visions of beauty shall start;
And a voice from my pale leaves will whisper to thee
'I have come from thy kindred in heart.'
Whence visions of beauty shall start;
And a voice from my pale leaves will whisper to thee
'I have come from thy kindred in heart.'
