THY HOME AND MINE.
| Is this thy home? The wild woods wave Their branches in the mountain breeze— And nature to thy mansion gave A treasure in those noble trees. Here flows a river bright and pure Along its silver-winding way, While on its white and pebbled shore A fairy group of children play. Here calm and clear looks heaven's blue dome— This is thy lovely Highland home! This is thy home—at evening's hour A social band assemble here, With converse sweet and music's power, To chase each gloomy thought of care. Affection's gentle language speaks In every eye thine eyes behold— Here revels love on beauty's cheeks And bids her braid her locks of gold. In search of bliss you need not roam— But this is not—is not my home! My home is where the waters roll Deep, wide and blue to ocean's caves— How sweetly soothing to the soul The murmur of their dashing waves! Oft has their music charmed mine ear At twilight's soft and dewy hour— When one I fondly love was near To feel with me its witching power, And watch the billows crown'd with foam, Break on thy walls, my lowland home! My home! how soon that single word Can cause regretful tears to flow! It thrills on feeling's finest chord— Still does it make my bosom glow. Oh what a fountain of delight Does that one little sound unseal! When far away, to mem'ry's sight What scenes of bliss does it reveal! 'Tis the voice of nature bids me come To thy shrine of love—my own sweet home! Wealth may be ours, and fame may spread With trumpet-voice our names afar— In honor's cause we may have bled And braved the crimson tide of war— But wealth, and fame, and glory's crown Are bubbles which a breath may burst, As quickly as a breath hath blown; They cannot slake the burning thirst For happiness—for this we roam, And this is only found at home! |
E. A. S.