html.skin-theme-clientpref-night @media(prefers-color-scheme:dark){html.skin-theme-clientpref-os }My home is near thee, loved one! and around thee,
Where'er thou art!
Though still mortality's thick cloud hath bound thee,
Doubt not my heart!
Mrs. Heman's Song of a Guardian Spirit.
Thou hovering 'round me! oh, can this be true?
E'er gazing on me with thy spirit eyes?
So near, beloved! yet hidden from my view
As much as tho' thou dwelt beyond the skies.
When my faint heart is sinking 'neath the weight
Of sorrows none may share since thou art gone,
Art thou the ministering one, my spirit-mate,
God sends with gifts of strength for His weak one?
When lone I seek the dear old trysting place,
Where oft we sat and whispered love vows sweet,
And standing there, murmur with upturned face,
Fond names to thee, oh, do my whisperings meet
Thy listening ear? and dost thou kindly send
A greeting back to me—thy young heart's choice,
Or is it but my fancy which doth lend
So sweet a cadence to the wind's low voice?
When from the hollow hearts 'round me I turn,
With longings for the love I lost with thee,
Art thou so near, my friend, thou canst discern
How every mem'ry, sword-like, pierces me?
When mingling with the gay, 'mid festal throng,
Where hearts are light and joyous as the air
Where [time] time flies by with jest and happy song,
Dost thou watch o'er me, dear one, even there?
And can't thou see, how by a careless word,
Or burst of song, whose strains we, too, have known,
The Marah-founts within my heart are stirred,
Moaning for joys that with the past have flown?
When night's dim shadows the green hills enshroud.
And from all human things I steal apart
To where my soul dare breathe aloud,
By thy lone grave, the Mecca of my heart,
Dost thou still watch beside me? no reply
Of blest assurance falls upon my ear;
No white-robed vision greets my upturned eye,
But in my soul, beloved, I feel thee near.
September 24, 1869.