Poems (Acton)/The Homeward Bound

by Harriet Acton and Rose Acton

THE HOMEWARD BOUND ——

The homeward bound! what anxious hope
 Within each bosom sleeps,
While the gallant ship, 'mid storm and sun,
  Her way still proudly keeps.
O, for the first long-pray'd for sight
 Of the chalky cliffs, that tell
To the wand'rer's heart with wild delight,
 Where the absent lov'd ones dwell.

'Neath an awning on the stately deck
 A pallid girl doth lie,
Gazing upon the crested waves
 That bear her home to die;
And ever and anon she turns
 Her glance across the main,
For a vestige of the home she yearns
 To look upon again.

Home! at that thought the faint rose steals
 Once more across her cheek;
And the light within her eyes shows forth
 More joy than words could speak:
Sweet tones, from kindred voices, seem
 To whisper in her ear,
Telling, as in a happy dream,
 The bliss that draweth near.

"Speed thee, good ship! oh, speed thee on!"
 Is still her changeless cry,
While swift beneath the vessel's track
 The glancing waters fly.
Onward, still onward, night and day,
 Till, like a distant star,
The home so pin'd for when away
 Gleams faintly from afar.

Then fails the strength that bore her up
 When now the goal seems won—
Fadeth the colour from her cheek
 As clouds before the sun.
The eye doth lose its sunny gleam,
 While closer smiles that shore
Whose shadow she was wont to deem
 Would bring her health once more.

Onward! still onward! voices burst
 Upon her list'ning ear;
Her glance doth light on kindred forms,
 With joyous greeting near:
And then—aye, then—the slender thread
 That stays her trembling breath,
Breaks with such rapture, and her head
 Bows to the touch of death!

So is it with some earthly thing
 For which our spirit yearns,
To which our heart through weary years
 With changeless fondness turns.
Perchance our longing eyes may meet
 The joy we prize so much,
And see the blessing at our feet
 To crumble at the touch!
H. A.