Select poems / by L.H. Sigourney [electronic resource]

THE BENEFACTRESS.

Who asks if I remember thee? or speak thy treasur'd name? Doth the frail rush forget the stream from whence its greenness came? Doth the wild, lonely flower that sprang within some rocky dell Forget the first, awakening smile that on its bosom fell?

Did Israel's exil'd sons, when far from Zion's hill away,Forget the high and holy house, where first they learn'd to pray? Forget around their Temple's wreck to roam in mute despair, And o'er its hallow'd ashes pour a grief that none might share?

Remember thee? Remember thee?—though many a year hath fled Since o'er thy pillow cold and low, the uprooted turf was spread,

Yet oft doth twilight's musing hour, thy graceful form restore, And morning breathe the music-tone, like Memnon's harp of yore.

The simple cap that deck'd thy brow, is still to Memory dear, Her echoes keep thy cherish'd song that lull'd my infant ear; The book, from which my lisping tongue was by thy kindness taughtGleams forth, with all its letter'd lines, still fresh with hues of thought.

The flowers, the dear, familiar flowers, that in thy garden grew, From which thy mantel-vase was fill'd—methinks, they breathe anew; Again, the whispering lily bends, and ope those lips of rose, As if some message of thy love, they linger'd to disclose.

'Tis true, that more than fourscore years had bow'd thy beauty low, And mingled, with thy cup of life, full many a dreg of woe, But yet thou hadst a better charm than youthful bloom hath found, And balm within thy chastened heart, to heal another's wound.

Remember thee? Remember thee? though with the blest on high, Thou hast a mansion of delight, unseen by mortal eye, Comes not thy wing to visit me, in the deep watch of night, When visions of unutter'd things do make my sleep so bright?

I feel thy love within my breast, it nerves me strong and high As cheers the wanderer o'er the deep, the pole-star in the sky, And when my weary spirit quails, or friendship's smile is cold, I feel thine arm around me thrown, as oft it was of old,

Remember thee! Remember thee! while flows this purple tide,I'll keep thy precepts in my heart, thy pattern for my guide,And, when life's little journey ends, and light forsakes my eye, Come, hovering o'er my bed of pain, and teach me how to die.