WE PARTED.
BY M. A. RICE.
We parted at the dawn of day,
While in the east a bright cloud lay
Awaiting the approaching sun;
The night, with all its dreams, was done,
The birds sang sweetly from each spray;
Dim mists began to speed away.
We parted at the old street door—
I stood and blessed him o'er and o'er,
As down the dear old grass-grown way
Which sparkling in the dew-drops lay,
He passed with slow, unwilling tread,
With tearful eyes and bended head.
He left us—he, the gifted boy,
The worshipped to idolatry.
But sixteen summer suns had shed
Their gladsome smiles above his head,
And now in memory's mirror fair
He stands before me just as there—
With that endeared bewitching face,
And form of more than sculptured grace—
With raven hair and eagle eye,
And brow so sunny and so high.
Long days of absence did I mourn
And wish a brother's loved return;
But, oh! how lonely were the hours,
How scentless were the sweetest flowers,
How joyless was the summer's sky,
And well I wished the hours gone by!
How oft at evening, sad and lone,
I watched the silent stars that shone;
And though they were so cold, so high,
They seemed to gaze with sympathy;
And many a gentle whispering gale,
And many a silvery moon-beam pale,
Can witness that the flight of years
Stayed not affection's truest tears.
Three summers, with their flowers, had cheered,
And winter's snow as oft appeared;
'Twas said that our beloved would come
Once more to his paternal home.
The grape-vine o'er our cottage door
Put out its glist'ning leaves once more;
Fair flowers looked smiling from the ground—
A welcome mingled in each sound.
And one there came with bearing high—
Ambition's fire was in his eye;
But ah! how blighted was my joy,
No feature of the lovely boy
That parted with the bitter tear,
Had left its cherished traces there!
Time leaves an impress—and will bring
A change o'er every human thing.
Seest thou a cloud at hour of even
Soft floating in the vault of heaven?
Gaze on the shadowy vision fair;
'Tis the last time it resteth there.
And dost thou breathe the word "farewell?"
'Twill be affection's funeral knell.
And never dream to thy fond arms,
Thy friend, arrayed in cherished charms,
This cold, vain world will e'er restore
As warm and truthful as before.
Hope in thy heart may chide its pain,
But loved ones never come again.