Poems (Eliza Gabriella Lewis)/To the Absent
TO THE ABSENT.
Come to me, love; knowest thou the dew is falling, And the pure star-light gleams o'er hill and dale? Come, ere my lips are weary with their calling, And the soft check thou lovest turneth pale.
Why dost thou linger? clouds are gathering round me, But not the summer's gentle threatnings lour; 'Tis the heart's gloom, dearest, ere grief hath bound me In his strong fetters;—come, and joy restore.
Call I in vain? my children, the young voices Join to your mother's! bid wild echo ring With the loved name that still my heart rejoices, As in our love's first fair and joyous spring.
Would I could hear his steps, as music cheering To the lone watching heart—bid him draw near, And from the brow, pale with love's anxious fearing, Kiss the deep sadness and starting tear!
Hark! 'tis his step! quick, quick, and haste to meet him! E'en through the darkness I can mark his gazeHasten, my children! warmly, kindly greet him. Home safe! to heaven now give thy grateful praise.