Page:Felicia Hemans in The New Monthly Magazine Volume 20 1827.pdf/21

But this as dayspring's flush was brief,
    As early bloom or dew;—
Alas! 'tis but the wither'd leaf
    That wears th' enduring hue!
Those rocks along the Rhine's fair shore
Might girdle in their world no more.

For now on Manhood's verge they stood,
    And heard Life's thrilling call
As if a silver clarion woo'd
    To some high festival;
And parted as young Brothers part,
With love in each unsullied heart.

They parted—soon the paths divide
    Wherein our steps were one,
Like river-branches, far and wide
    Dissevering as they run,
And making strangers in their course
Of waves that had the same bright source.

Met they no more?—once more they met,
    Those kindred hearts and true!
Twas on a field of Death, where yet
    The battle-thunders flew,
Though the fierce day was well nigh past,
And the red sunset smiled its last.

But as the combat closed they found
    For tender thoughts a space,
And ev'n upon that bloody ground
    Room for one brief embrace,
And pour'd forth on each other's neck
Such tears as warrior need not check.

The mists o'er boyhood's memory spread
    All melted with those tears;
The faces of the holy dead
    Rose as in vanish'd years;
The Rhine, the Rhine, the ever bless'd,
Lifted its voice in each full breast!

Oh! was it then a time to die?
    It was!—that not in vain
The soul to Childhood's purity
    And peace might turn again.
A ball swept forth—'twas guided well—
Heart unto heart those brothers fell.

Happy, yes, happy thus to go!
    Bearing from Earth away
Affections gifted ne'er to know
    A shadow—a decay,
A passing touch of change or chill,
A breath of aught whose breath can kill.

And they between whose sever'd souls,
    Once in close union tied,
A gulf is set, a current rolls
    For ever to divide,—
Well may they envy such a lot,
Whose hearts yearn on—but mingle not.
F. H.