Poetical Remains of the Late Mrs Hemans/The Welcome to Death

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For other versions of this work, see The Welcome to Death.


THE WELCOME TO DEATH.




Thou art welcome, O thou warning voice!
    My soul hath pined for thee;
Thou art welcome as sweet sounds from shore
    To wanderer on the sea.
I hear thee in the rustling woods,
    In the sighing vernal airs;
Thou call'st me from the lonely earth,
    With a deeper tone than theirs.

The lonely earth! Since kindred steps
    From its green paths are fled,
A dimness and a hush have lain
    O'er all its beauty spread.

The silence of the unanswering soul
    Is on me and around;
My heart hath echoes but for thee,
    Thou still, small, warning sound!

Voice after voice hath died away,
    Once in my dwelling heard;
Sweet household-name by name hath changed
    To grief's forbidden word!
From dreams of night on each I call,
    Each of the far removed;
And waken to my own wild cry—
    "Where are ye, my beloved?"

Ye left me! and earth's flowers were dim
    With records of the past:
And stars poured down another light
    Than o'er my youth they cast:
Birds will not sing as once they sung,
    When ye were at my side,

And mournful tones are in the wind,
    Which I heard not till ye died!

Thou art welcome, O thou summoner!
    Why should the last remain?
What eye can reach my heart of hearts,
    Bearing in light again?
E'en could this be, too much of fear
    O'er love would now be thrown—
Away, away! from time, from change,
    Once more to meet my own!