42
But what of that? Year after year,
In every battle's shock,
Or 'mid the storms of ocean drear,
Aly heart clung to this rock;
Was with its very being blent,
Sucking from it brave nourishment.
All life, all feeling, every thought
Was centred in this spot;
The Unforgetting being wrought
Upon the Un forgot.
Time fleeted on; but time ne'er dimmed
The picturings of the heart[1]—
Freshly as when they first were limned,
Truth's fadeless tints would start;
Yes! Avheresoe'er Life's bark might steer,
This changeless heart was anchored here.
Ha! laugh, sweet Flesh and Blood, outright,
Nor smother honest glee,
Your time is now; but ere this night
Hath travelled over me,
- ↑ The picturings of this heart.—MS. copy.
