Poems (Mitford)/To my Father

by Mary Russell Mitford

TO MY FATHER, ON HIS RETURN FROM BOCKING. MAY 29, 1808.

From those sad scenes, where hopeless woe
 No transient gleam of comfort cheers;
Where, still in silent sorrow flow
 The widow's and the orphans' tears;

From those sad scenes, where ev'ry thought
 Recalls the friend you lov'd so well,
And struggling sighs, with anguish fraught,
 Your pitying bosom frequent swell;

From those sad scenes at length you turn,
 And, pensive, seek your tranquil dome:
Then cease, my Father! cease to mourn,
 And cheer again your pleasant home!

To greet you summer smiles around,
 The groves, the fields, the plains are gay;
Fair is each blossom on the ground,
 Bright gleams the oak's majestic spray!

For you each flow'ret, that you love,
 And each fair shrub, luxuriant blooms,
The gay Labunium decks the grove,
 The woodbine the soft breeze perfumes.

For you the lark's gay carols swell,
 And notes of welcome grace his lay—
What notes shall Mary's pleasure tell?
 What words her heart's fond welcome say?

To welcome you in vain she tries,
 And vainly strives to speak her bliss—
Then read her pleasure in her eyes!
 And take her welcome in a kiss!