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342 FOREST MELODIES. |
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Here once more I watch the light
Of the slow-declining sun— 0, what memories to-night,
Steal upon me one by one!
THE YOUNG ITINERANT.
Close by the banks of "a beautiful river. Where poplar leaves in the breezes quiver, Stood a pale-brow'd stranger—his calm blue eye Just raised to the verge of the eastern sky. The leaves with a gentle pulsation beat, The waves hush'd their murmur beneath his feet, And the ivy that round the rugged rocks hung, Trembled over the waters as thus he sung :—
" The home of my childhood—it lies afar, Toward the risincr sheen of that eastern star: The friends of my youth—they are wending there, And this moonlight lies on their pathway fair. Though bright is the landscape that meets my eye, I gaze with a fondly-rising sigh; For I think of hearts that moved with my own, At the sight of waves where the moonbeams shone.
" I think of those bosoms, that thrill'd like mine, With n transport deep, with a power divine, As nature's harp-strings were wildly rung, And their sweetest strains on the night-air flung. |
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