Pocahontas and Other Poems (New York)/Parting

by Lydia Huntley Sigourney

PARTING.

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Not of the boisterous wave,
    Not of the tempest's power,
Not of the rent and cleaving bark,
    Speak at this sacred hour.

God of the trusting soul!
    God of the traveller, hear!
And from our parting cup of love
    Wring out these dregs of fear.

Art thou a God at home,
    Where the bright fireside smiles,
And not abroad, upon the deep,
    Mid danger's deadliest wiles?

What though the eyes so dear
    To distant regions turn,
Their tender language in our hearts
    Like vestal flame shall burn.

What though the voice beloved
    Respond not to our pain,
We'll shut its music in the soul
    Until we meet again.

Farewell! we're travellers all,
    With one bless'd goal in view,
One rest, one everlasting home,
    Sweet friend, a sweet adieu!