_Ob. 1832: æt. 17._
Fill high the cup!--the young and gay
Are met with bounding hearts to-night;
And sunny smiles around us play,
And eyes are sparkling bright:
Let wit and song the hours beguile,
But yet, amid this festal cheer,
Oh, let us pause to think awhile
Of him who is not here.
Fill high the cup!--yet ere its brim
One young and smiling lip has pressed,
Oh, pledge each sparkling drop to him
Now far o'er ocean's breast!
The cordial wish each lip repeats,
By every heart is echoed here;
For none within this circle beats,
To whom he is not dear.
A sudden pause in festive glee--
What thought hath hushed the thought of mirth,
Hath checked each heart's hilarity,
And given to sadness birth?
O! read it in the shades that steal
Across each animated brow;
The wish none utters, yet all feel,
"Would he were with us now!"
Yet chase away each vain regret,
And let each heart be gay;
Trust me, the meeting hour shall yet
Each anxious thought repay.
Is not his spirit with us now?
Yes! wheresoe'er his footsteps roam,
The wanderer's yearning heart can know
No resting-place--but home!
Then smile again, and let the song
Pour forth its music sweet and clear--
What magic to those notes belong
Which thus chain every ear!
Soft eyes are filled with tears--what spell
So suddenly hath called them there?
That strain--ah, yes! we know it well;
It is his favourite air.
With every note how forcibly
Return the thoughts of other days!
The shaded brow, the drooping eye,
Are present to our gaze.
With all around his looks are blent;
His form, is it not gliding there?
And was it not _his_ voice which sent
That echo on the air?
One wish, with cordial feeling fraught,
Breathe we for him ere yet we part,
That for each high and generous thought
That animates his heart,
That Power which gives us happiness,
A blessing on his head would pour!
Oh! could affection wish him less?
Yet, could we ask for more?