With an old familiar fondness and an earnestness of love. Brother, I to thee was ever as a storm-cloud on the hills, Lowering o'er the rocks and caverns and the laughter of the rills: Yet I've thought at times, my brother, from the sunshine of thy life, Passing rainbow gleams have fallen on my spirit-world of strife: For when every fount was wormwood, every star had ceased to shine, It was bliss in dreams to ponder how unlike thy lot to mine. Yet, in childhood, I remember how our sainted mother said Often on bright Sabbath eves, and thrice upon her dying bed That far scenes would crowd upon her, when she look'd on me and thee, In the distance, dream-like dawning, from the glorious dream-countree. She was kneeling, as she told us, at her Saviour's blessed feet Leaning on her harp, which warbled (as she knelt) heaven's music sweet But the thrill of that communion, and the smiles that on her fell, And the melody of worship, words, she said, might never tell. Still the dream grew clear and clearer, softer still that music's tone, And she saw she was not kneeling in that glorious light alone: For beside her were two spirits (well she knew them), I and thou; Life and light and love, all blended, like soft rainbows, on our brow. And like us in blest communion kneeling, singing as we sung, On the hand of each of us a gentler lovelier angel hung. Often since I've mused, my brother, when my heart was rent, if this Were a heaven-sent dream, prophetic of a far-off home of bliss, Or a beautiful life-picture by affection's fingers drawn, But which, like my earthly joys, should fade, fade, fade away at dawn. Weep not, brother! thou hast found that angel of the far-off land, Whom our mother saw there kneeling, gently clinging to thy hand. I, too, have a tale to tell thee (would that it may end in light), Though a tale of sin and sorrow, I can better tell at night. Who could speak of sad hearts broken by himself, of tear drown'd eyes, And of wither'd hopes and feelings, underneath blue laughing skies? Sorrow clings to sorrow's raiment―grief must have her twilight wan Moan, ye winds and woods and waves, and let the embers smoulder on. Gaze with me a moment down the billowy ocean of our life, Which with tears and fitful radiance seems mysteriously rife: In the distance, like the earliest flush of morning o'er the hills, Even here, through cloud and gloom, a dewy mellow light distils. Still it grows upon my sight intensely beautiful and grand, From the land of childhood streaming, childhood's golden faery-land: When Time went on sunshine wheels, on wings of breezy joyaunce by, Every feeling, like the sky-lark, from the earth and to the sky. Then, perchance, no human seer that look'd upon our reck less brow, Could have prophesied the diverse pathway we are travel ling now. But the first black cloud that shadow'd childhood's blue pellucid years, Gloom'd, rose, cover'd, broke upon us with a sudden dash of tears Gloom'd upon the morn, the tidings of our father's victory came, Earn'd with precious drops of blood- the dew, an' if ye will, of fame; Broke― the next sad post a letter, edged with black, too surely told That his heart was still for ever, and his lips for ever cold. Then our mother-day by day she struggled with her choking grief — Oh, she could not - - but beside us wither'd, like a dying leaf: And, when leaves should die, in autumn, her the first of all the year, Laid we down, with sighs and weeping, on her cold sepulchral bier; And with faltering listless footsteps slowly sought, when all was o'er, Hand in hand our desolate home; though desolate, ours, alas, no more. We were parted— each alone, 'mid stranger hearts and faces strange: Dreary seem'd the waste of lifetime, like a barren shore, to range. But a gentle eye fell on thee - seem'd it but a sister's love? Pity's tears, that wept thy sorrows, from one tenderer than the dove? Oh, ye grew for five brief summers there together, side by side, Till she stood in beauty by thee, thine own loving lovely bride; Blushing, trembling, till the vow to love thee then her face grew bright, And intense affection o'er her threw a beauty like the light. |