Poems (Hale)/"Farewell to my Home"

by Mary Whitwell Hale

FAREWELL TO MY HOME.

I linger on the threshold yet;
 I cannot breathe the farewell tone.
A spell of sad, though sweet regret,
 Is o'er this parting moment thrown.
Home! home! thou dearest spot of all
 Earth's weary wanderers love so well,
As I thy vanished hours recall,
 What varied thoughts within me swell!

Here first in joy my footsteps pressed
 A spot I fondly called my own.
Here friendship's tones my heart have blessed,
 Nor hate its seeds of discord sown.
Here could my weary frame repose,
 When faint with toil, or worn with care;
Here, when life's quivering breath should close,
 I hoped to breathe my parting prayer.

Here have joy's gushing tones been heard;
 Here sorrow's brooding wing been spread:
Here the deep fount of gladness stirred;
 And here grief's silent tear-drop shed.
Here to affection's treasured store,
 Were gems of priceless value given,
As stars, to shine my pathway o'er,
 And light the pilgrim's course to heaven.

Here have I stood with sorrowing eye,
 To watch life's embers die away
While faith could lift her glance on high,
 And gaze on heaven's all-perfect day.
Here have I stood beside the shrine,
 Where love lights up his holiest beam;
Where heart, and hand, and voice combine,
 To shadow forth a glorious dream.

Yet as I linger round the past,
 And sigh to break the golden chain,
My glance is on the future cast,
 And Hope breathes forth her sweeter strain.
What though my feet no longer roam
 Where love the varied scenes can trace?
What though my fondly cherished home
 Is now the stranger's resting-place?

The heart unchanged—love's quenchless smile;
 Truth's holy spell—hope's fadeless glow,
A desert's gloom could well beguile,
 And bid joy's sacred fountains flow.
Change cannot blight their radiant bloom,
 There time his influence may not send,
But sorrow's tear,—affliction's gloom,
 To joy a holier light shall lend.