HE left his home with a bounding heart, <br />For the world was all before him; <br />And he felt it scarce a pain to part, <br />Such sun-bright beams came o'er him. <br />He turned him to visions of future years, <br />The rainbow's hues were around them; <br />And a father's bodings - a mother's tears - <br />Might not weigh with the hopes, that crowned them. <br /> <br />That mother's cheek is far paler now <br />Then when she last caressed him; <br />There's an added gloom, on that father's brow, <br />Since the hour, when last he blessed him. <br />Oh! that all human hopes should prove <br />Like the flowers, that will fade to-morrow; <br />And the cankering fears of anxious love <br />Ever end in truth and sorrow. <br /> <br />He left his home with a swelling sail, <br />Of fame and fortune dreaming - <br />With a spirit, as free as the vernal gale, <br />Or the pennon above him streaming. <br />He hath reached his goal;- by a distant wave, <br />'Neath a sultry sun they've laid him; <br />And stranger forms bent o'er his grave, <br />When the last sad rites were paid him. <br /> <br />He should have died in his own loved land, <br />With friends and kinsmen near him; <br />Not have withered thus on a foreign strand, <br />With no thought, save of heaven, to cheer him. <br />But what recks it now?- Is his sleep less sound, <br />In that port where the wild winds swept him, <br />Than if home's green turf his grave had bound, <br />Or the hearts he loved had wept him? <br /> <br />Then why repine? - Can he feel the rays <br />That pestilent sun sheds o'er him; <br />Or share the grief, that may cloud the days <br />Of the friends, who now deplore him? <br />No; his bark's at anchor - its sails are furled,- <br />It hath 'scaped the storms' deep chiding; <br />And, safe from the buffeting waves of the world, <br />In a haven of peace is riding.<br /><br />Alaric Alexander Watts<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/an-epicedium/
