Poems (Acton)/The Homeward Bound
THE HOMEWARD BOUND
The homeward bound! what anxious hope Within each bosom sleeps,While the gallant ship, 'mid storm and sun, Her way still proudly keeps.O, for the first long-pray'd for sight Of the chalky cliffs, that tellTo the wand'rer's heart with wild delight, Where the absent lov'd ones dwell.
'Neath an awning on the stately deck A pallid girl doth lie,Gazing upon the crested waves That bear her home to die;And ever and anon she turns Her glance across the main,For a vestige of the home she yearns To look upon again.
Home! at that thought the faint rose steals Once more across her cheek;And the light within her eyes shows forth More joy than words could speak:Sweet tones, from kindred voices, seem To whisper in her ear,Telling, as in a happy dream, The bliss that draweth near.
"Speed thee, good ship! oh, speed thee on!" Is still her changeless cry,While swift beneath the vessel's track The glancing waters fly.Onward, still onward, night and day, Till, like a distant star,The home so pin'd for when away Gleams faintly from afar.
Then fails the strength that bore her up When now the goal seems won—Fadeth the colour from her cheek As clouds before the sun.The eye doth lose its sunny gleam, While closer smiles that shoreWhose shadow she was wont to deem Would bring her health once more.
Onward! still onward! voices burst Upon her list'ning ear;Her glance doth light on kindred forms, With joyous greeting near:And then—aye, then—the slender thread That stays her trembling breath,Breaks with such rapture, and her head Bows to the touch of death!
So is it with some earthly thing For which our spirit yearns,To which our heart through weary years With changeless fondness turns.Perchance our longing eyes may meet The joy we prize so much,And see the blessing at our feet To crumble at the touch!H. A.