TO HER FATHER IN AMERICA.
And thus it was, as drew the moments nearer
That stamp'd their record deep oil every heart;
As day by day thy presence grew yet dearer,
By how much sooner thou shouldst hence depart.
Love wept indeed, though she might seem a sleeper,
Long ere descending tears the signs betray'd;
And the heart's fountain was but so much deeper,
The longer was its overflow delay'd.
The page my unapt heart has learn'd so newly
In the dark lessons which afflictions teach—
Oh, it were vain to try to utter truly
In the cold language of unapter speech.
That hearts when thus their very depths are burning
Alone should know their bitterness, is well;
But, oh, my heart more joys than aches in learning
Another lesson, would that words could tell.
New depths of love in measure unsuspected,
Ties closer than I knew, were round my heart;
And half I thank the wrench that has detected
How thoroughly and deeply dear thou art.
And 'twas to tell thee this that I have taken
The tuneless lyre I thought to use no more,
Yet once at thy returning may it waken,
Then sleep forever, silent as before.
And not more narrow than the dome of ether
Beams heaven's unbounded, earth-embracing scroll;
Then be it thine and ours to read together
Of Him who loves not less than rules the whole.
And not more slow than was the bark that bore thee
To an untried and dimly-distant land—
Our hearts' affections thither flew before thee,
And now are ready waiting on the strand.
—8th Month, 1845.