Poems (Toke)/Lines (Oh! would that thou wert here, my love)

by Emma Toke

For works with similar titles, see Lines.

LINES.

H! would that thou wert here, my love,
 To sit on this grey stone,
And gaze on all the pleasant scene,
 Hill, vale, and heathery down!
And would that all our little ones
 Were racing o'er the lea,
Drinking the pure elastic air,
 And shouting in their glee!

Oh, fairer then than even now,
 Would all around me seem,
And brighter far would be earth's smile,
 Beneath the summer beam.
But vain the wish,—so I will rest
 Once more on this grey stone,
And think of thee, and strive to feel
 That I am not alone.

Ay, fair and bright, and peaceful too,
 Is all that meets the eye;
The rich green woods, the emerald turf,
 The glowing summer sky:
Before me spreads a wild expanse,
 Dark heath and woody glen,
But all around peep gaily forth,
 The haunts and homes of men.

Up starts the lark beneath my feet,
 And like a sound of Spring,
The cuckoo, with her ceaseless note,
 Flies past on heavy wing:
The swallow twittering, whirls around,
 And every living voice
Seems, with one hymn of praise, to bid
 Each weary heart rejoice.

How does a scene like this awake
 The glow of early years!
And dreams of youth return again,
 With all their smiles and tears.
The cares, the shades of life depart,
 Love, peace, and truth remain;
And sunshine, clear as childhood's, rests
 Upon the heart again.

Oh that thou wert but here, my love,
 To sit beside me now!
Oh that the breeze, which fans my cheek,
 Could breathe upon thy brow!
Fain would I ask that gentle wind,
 Love's messenger to be,
And waft the blessings that I breathe,
 To all so dear to me.

E.

Tunbridge Wells, June 4, 1849.