Poetry Archives

“Come, Edmund, now the sun goes down,
  Thy many wanderings tell!
Say, after all thine eyes have seen,
  If home appears so well!”

“So well! alas! ye do not know
  How absence can endear!
In every hill, in every tree,
  A thousand charms appear.

“The verdure of these English fields
  Seems in my heart to glow—
There, as this shaded river winds,
  I feel its waters flow.

“For, though I ventured forth so bold,
  So long, so far did roam,
Affection, like a wayward child,
  Still wept and murmur’d, home!

“I persevered, yet still I strained
  The pleader to my breast;
I hush’d her cries, but as I chid
  More fondly still carest.

“And when I met with foreign dames
  Of grace and beauty rare—
I fancied one dear village girl
  Like them: but oh! how fair!

“My early playmate! oft I humm’d
  The lays she lisping sung!
And sigh’d when looking on the arm,
  Where she at parting hung.

“Then, joy! within my native vale
  To find my Ellen free!
To fancy others pleas’d her not,
  Because she thought on me!

“So closely round a glowing heart
  Did never flowers entwine!
Oh! ne’er was mortal spirit lull’d
  With visions sweet as mine!”