No. VI: The Voyager's Regret


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By Mrs. Fletcher, (late Miss Jewsbury).

THEY are thinking far away
Of their loved ones on the water;
The mother of her son,
The father of his daughter;
And a theme of awe and wonder,
If little ones there be,
Are those parted far asunder
By the wide and unknown sea.

The hoarse roar of the billow
Is ever in my ear,
For close, close lies my pillow
To the watery desert drear;
Yet distant tones are nearer,
The greeting, song, or sigh,
Of those than empires dearer;
And tears rush to my eye.

A prisoner on the ocean,
How oft my cabin-room
On this wilderness of motion,
Reminds me of a tomb!
Yet through its windows streaming,
Flash daybreaks rich as noon;
And on my couch comes gleaming
Full oft a sunlike moon.

And stars the night-sky brighten,
Unseen, unknown before;
Alas! regret they heighten
For those beheld no more!
For constellations vanished
Though lovelier come on,
The heart's star of the banished,
The Polar Star, is gone.

Strange birds the blue air cleaving
Attract the wanderer’s sight,
And stranger creatures weaving
Their path, through waves as bright;—
But I, grown sick with pining
After the things that were,
Over the deep reclining
But see 'mid strange or fair,
My sister’s sweet face shining!—
My father’s thin grey hair!

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