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THE WISH.
Come to me, when my soul
Hath but a few dim hours to linger here;
When earthly chains are as a shrivell'd scroll,
Oh! let me feel thy presence! be but near!
That I may look once more
Into thine eyes, which never changed for me;
That I may speak to thee of that bright shore
Where, with our treasure, we have longed to be.
Thou friend of many days!
Of sadness and of joy, of home and hearth!
Will not thy spirit aid me then to raise
The trembling pinions of my hope from earth?
