At the earnest and repeated solicitations of her northern friends, she revisited Scotland, and had the severity of the climate not threatened to be fatal to her, she would have gladly fixed her future home in Dunedin. She made a voyage to Dublin, to ascertain its suitablility as a place of residence. From Dublin she crossed the channel to Holyhead, and travelled through the Island of Anglesea, to her old home Bronwylfa. Her old Welsh neighbours flocked around her, entreating her to come back and live among them again. She returned to Wavertree with agitated spirits, and an exhausted frame.
In 1831, Mrs. Hemans finally quitted Liverpool for Dublin. After spending several weeks among kind friends, she passed on to the residence of her second brother and his wife, and then visited all the remarkable places around Kilkenny. In the spring and summer of 1832, when cholera was devastating the city, her letters express the solemn composure of her soul, her childlike dependence upon the care of God, and her unreserved submission to His will. In the autumn of 1833, the Rev. Mr. and Mrs. Hughes, the brother-in-law and sister of Mrs. Hemans, whom she had not seen for five years, came to Dublin. Her sister saw with pain the worn and altered looks which time, care, and sickness had wrought. In 1834, referring to the brightening of heart and soul into the perfect day of Christian excellence, she remarks; “When the weary struggle with wrong and injustice leads to such results, I then feel that the fearful mystery of life is solved for me.” Reading one evening in the gardens of the Dublin Society, a chill fog imperceptibly came on, and she was seized with a violent fit of shivering. For many weeks she had periodic attacks of ague. Aware that her time was short, she sedulously employed her genius and talents for the glory of God.
On Sunday the 10th of May, 1835, she was able, for the last time, to read to herself the appointed Collect, Epistle, and Gospel. During that week a heavy languor oppressed her, and sometimes her mind wandered, but always in sunny scenes. On the evening of Saturday the 16th, at nine o’clock, while asleep, her happy spirit passed away. Life, and this admirable woman, had not been long together; she was only in her forty-second year.
Her remains were interred in St. Anne’s church, Dawson Street, Dublin; and over her grave were inscribed eight lines from one of her own dirges:—
“Calm on the bosom of thy God,
Fair spirit, rest thee now!
E’en while with us thy footsteps trod,
His seal was on thy brow.
Dust to its narrow house beneath!
Soul to its place on high!