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But he never knew, he never knew that here for him I'd kneel.

Sparkle o' the fire,

Sparkle o' the fire,

Mother Mary, keep my love, an' send me my desire !

B

DIGBY PILOT STARKEY

THE EMIGRANTS

EHOLD! a troop of travelers descending to the shore

Strong, stalwart youths and maidens, mixed with those in years and hoar;

With stealth they glide towards the tide, like walkers in their sleep:

Where are ye going, lonely ones, that thus ye walk, and weep?

No answer: but the lip compressed argues a tale to

tell

A studied silence seems to hold them bound, as with a spell,

They pass me by abstractedly, their gaze where, near at hand,

Rolls through the shade the heavy wave upon the sullen strand.

Stop-whither go ye? See, behind, e'en yet the landscape smiles

The broad sunset illumines yet these pleasant western isles,

Why, why is it that none will turn and take one look behind,

But rather face the billows then, to light and counsel blind?

Peace, questioner-we know the sun upon our soil

doth rest

Though emigrants, we have not cast all feeling from our breast;

But still, we go for through that shade hope gilds the distant plain,

While round the homes we've left we look'd for nourishment in vain!

Well, thou art strong; thy stubborn strength may make the desert do;

But, see! a weeping woman here—some shivering children too :

Deluded female, stop! for thee what hope behind the tide?

For me? and seest thou not I have my husband by my side?

And thou, too, parting! thou, my friend, that loved thy home and ease?

Ay-see my brothers-sisters here-what's country without these?

But then, thy hands for toil unfit-thy frame to labor new?

What then? I work beside my friends-come thou and join our crew.

Yes, come! exclaims a reverend man-glad will we be of thee

We go in Christian fellowship our mission o'er the

sea:

I've left a large and happy flock, that loved me, too, full well;

Yet I take heart, as I depart where godless heathen dwell.

Alas! and is it needful then, that from this ancient soil,

Where wealth and honor crowned so long the hardy yeoman's toil,

The goodliest of its offspring thus should bid the canvas swell,

And to the parent earth in troops wave their last farewell?

I am answered from the swarming ports, the everstreaming tide

That pours on board a thousand ships my country's hope and pride:

I'm answered by the fruitless toil of many a neighbor's

hand,

And the gladsome shouts of prosperous men in many a distant land.

Stay, countrymen! e'en yet there's time-we'll settle all your score

We cannot spare such honored men-'twould grieve our hearts too sore;

Things will go smooth-why quit the scene a thousand things made dear,

That wealth may deck ye in the spoils torn from affection here?

Torn is the last embrace apart-the vessel quits the shore

They're waving hands from off the deck, we hear their voice no more :

God bless ye, friends!

ble band!

I honor ye, adventurous, no

Farewell! I would not call ye now back to this wretched

land!

Why not myself among ye, loved associates of my

day?

Why not with you embarked to share the perils of your way?

Because, though hope may be your sun, remembrance is my star

Farewell I'll die a watcher where my father's ashes

are.

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