FROM her own fair dominions,
Long since, with shorn pinions,
My spirit was banished :
But above her still hover, in vigils and dreams,
Ethereal visitants, voices, and gleams,
That forever remind her
Of something behind her
Long vanished.
Through the listening night,
With mysterious flight,
Pass those winged intimations :
Like stars shot from heaven, their still voices fall to me ;
Far and departing, they signal and call to me,
Strangely beseeching me,
Chiding, yet teaching me
Patience.
Then at times, oh ! at times,
To their luminous climes
I pursue as a swallow !
To the river of Peace, and its solacing shades,
To the haunts of my lost ones, in heavenly glades,
With strong aspirations
Their pinions’ vibrations
I follow.
O heart, be thou patient !
Though here I am stationed
A season in durance,
The chain of the world I will cheerfully wear ;
For, spanning my soul like a rainbow, I bear,
With the yoke of my lowly
Condition, a holy
Assurance, —
That never in vain
Does the spirit maintain
Her eternal allegiance :
Through suffering and yearning, like Infancy learning
Its lesson, we linger ; then skyward returning,
On plumes fully grown
We depart to our own
Native regions !