By the late Mrs. ANN ROY, of Mathews county, Virginia.
Tho' Ocean's _pride_ be thy home, my boy,
I have heard thy laugh of infant joy;
Tho' Albion's breezes fan thy rest,
I have seen thee smile on thy mother's breast.
Like the forms that float in the summer heaven,
Fair Fancy's dreams have often given
Thy cherub beauty to my sight
Than those fairy tints more soft, more bright.
Yes, I have watched in sleep thine eye,
More darkly blue than the starlit sky,
By thy fringed lids now hid--now beaming
Like harebells mid a snow-wreath gleaming.
And I've longed thy ruby lip to press,
And I've sighed thy sunny brow to bless,
And to teach thee thy father's land to love,
So come o'er the wave, my island dove!
For here the sun doth brightly beam
Mid the feathery foam of the mountain stream,
And o'er the lake's clear beautiful face,
The dark trees bend with a shadowy grace.
And in rosy bowers the Eglantine
With the golden blossoms of Jasmine twine,
And the fruits and flowers wear a brighter hue,
And the heavens look on us more cloudlessly blue;
And from each hearth at the quiet even,
The voice of prayer ascends to heaven;
And the wild birds carol with joyous glee,
In our own fair land of the happy and free.
Come list to the music of every rill,
Which sends through our bosoms a magical thrill;
Dream not of the depths of the dark blue sea,
For the heavens will surely smile on thee.
Sweet scion of Columbia's race,
Come to thy kindred's fond embrace!
Come to the land once thy parents home,
Never again from her shores to roam!
For the Southern Literary Messenger.