Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/287
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THE DOMESTIC HEARTH.
269
Oh! what an awful spectacle to-vneet a father's eye!
His infant made a vulture's prey, with terror to descry,
And know, with agonising breast and with a maniac rave,
That earthly power could not avail that innocent to save!
My infant stretched his little hands imploringly to me,
And struggled with the ravenous bird, all vainly, to be free;
At intervals I heard his cries, as loud he shrieked and screamed,
Until upon the azure sky a lessening spot he seemed.
The vulture flapped his sail-like wings, though heavily he flew,
A mote upon the sun's broad face he seemed unto my view;
But once I thought I saw him stoop as if he would alight—
'Twas only a delusive thought, for all had vanished quite.
All search was vain, and years had passed, that child was ne'er forgot,
When once a daring hunter climbed unto a lofty spot,
From whence, upon a rugged crag the chamois never reached,
He saw an infant's fleshless bones the elements had bleached!
I clambered up that rugged cliff—I could not stay away—
I knew they were my infant's bones thus hastening to decay.
A tattered garment yet remained, though torn to many a shred,
The crimson cap he wore that morn was still upon his head,
That dreary spot is pointed out to travellers passing by.
Who often stand, and musing, gaze, nor go without a sigh."
And as I journeyed the next morn along my sunny way
The precipice was shown to me whereon the infant lay.
His infant made a vulture's prey, with terror to descry,
And know, with agonising breast and with a maniac rave,
That earthly power could not avail that innocent to save!
My infant stretched his little hands imploringly to me,
And struggled with the ravenous bird, all vainly, to be free;
At intervals I heard his cries, as loud he shrieked and screamed,
Until upon the azure sky a lessening spot he seemed.
The vulture flapped his sail-like wings, though heavily he flew,
A mote upon the sun's broad face he seemed unto my view;
But once I thought I saw him stoop as if he would alight—
'Twas only a delusive thought, for all had vanished quite.
All search was vain, and years had passed, that child was ne'er forgot,
When once a daring hunter climbed unto a lofty spot,
From whence, upon a rugged crag the chamois never reached,
He saw an infant's fleshless bones the elements had bleached!
I clambered up that rugged cliff—I could not stay away—
I knew they were my infant's bones thus hastening to decay.
A tattered garment yet remained, though torn to many a shred,
The crimson cap he wore that morn was still upon his head,
That dreary spot is pointed out to travellers passing by.
Who often stand, and musing, gaze, nor go without a sigh."
And as I journeyed the next morn along my sunny way
The precipice was shown to me whereon the infant lay.
The Domestic Hearth.
The camp may have its fame, the court its glare,
The theatre its wit, the board its mirth;
But there's a calm, a quiet haven where
Bliss flies for shelter—the domestic hearth!
If this be comfortless, if this be drear,
It needs not hope to find a haunt on earth,—
Elsewhere we may be reckless, gay, caressed;
But here, and only here, we can be blessed!
The theatre its wit, the board its mirth;
But there's a calm, a quiet haven where
Bliss flies for shelter—the domestic hearth!
If this be comfortless, if this be drear,
It needs not hope to find a haunt on earth,—
Elsewhere we may be reckless, gay, caressed;
But here, and only here, we can be blessed!
Oh! senseless, soulless, worse than both, were he,
Who slighting all the heart should hoard with pride,
Could waste nie nights in wanton revelry.
And leave his bosom's partner to abide
The anguish women feel who love, and see
Themselves deserted, and their hopes destroyed;
Some doting one, perhaps who hides her tears,
And struggles at a smile when he appears.
Who slighting all the heart should hoard with pride,
Could waste nie nights in wanton revelry.
And leave his bosom's partner to abide
The anguish women feel who love, and see
Themselves deserted, and their hopes destroyed;
Some doting one, perhaps who hides her tears,
And struggles at a smile when he appears.