Poems (Piatt)/Volume 2/Home Again
HOME AGAIN.
It is a mournful thing to have no home, To wear a shroud of loneliness on earth,To know that fate has forced thee forth to roam, And fear thyself unwelcome by each hearth,—To hear harsh, stranger voices, and to raiseA drooping lid and meet a loveless gaze!
Once, long ago, the lightning's quivering glare Lit the strange sadness of a boyish face,And vanished from bright waves of tangled hair That seemed to touch the dark with sunny grace,While the sad wind with many a fond caressSighed for a kindred wanderer's loneliness.
Weary and wretched he had sunk to sleep Ere sunset's crimson loveliness was gone;The twilight came and passed, night's gloom grew deep In the damp forest; still he slumbered on, And—oh! how strange!—that friendless wanderer smiledAs calmly as a cradled, thoughtless child.
For Memory bore him to his home; he heard The murmured music of his childish hours;He saw familiar trees and each bright bird Whose sweet song gushed at Spring-time 'mid the flowers;His sister smiled, his mother's thrilling kissFlushed his pale cheek with more than former bliss.
He woke, while listening to the words of love, And heard the passing night-wind's deep farewell!He saw the trees around, the clouds above, And murmured, starting from that blesséd spell,"O God! the loved are gone—my dream is o'er;This is a forest—I've a home no more!"
. . . World-wanderer, thou art in a forest too! Oh! dream and smile as did that lonely boy:There is a home for thee: the loved, the true, Await thee there amid unfading joy;Weary and sad thou too shalt fall asleep:The shades around thee shall be dim and deep.
Angels shall bear thee to thy home, and thou Shalt wake amid the light of early years;Thy mother's real kiss shall thrill thy brow And still the quivering of earth's lingering fears;Remembered voices, with an added strainOf trembling love, will whisper Home Again!