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Title: Reflections On Absent Friends, Gone To America
Author: John Castillo [
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The sun had gone down o’er yon lofty mountain,
The last golden streamer had left the tall tree;
The dwelling below seemed forsaken and gloomy,
Its inmates were tossing upon the wide sea.
The rose tree was nodding the lasses had nourish’d,
Which oft had supplied them with Sunday’s perfume;
The wall-flower in sorrowful modesty flourish’d,
And wept o’er the beautiful daisy in bloom!
In the track by the river the green grass is springing,
On whose flowery bank they were oft wont to stray;
No more the still grove with sweet echoes is ringing,
To the voice of the milk maid, or children at play.
The dog in the night time now howls discontented,
Of its master and mistress but lately bereft;
I listen’d and look’d to the place they frequented,
Of them not a sigh, nor a whisper is left.
How strong the emotions of friendship were glowing,
When towed by the steamer the ocean they braved;
Their force was evinced by the tears that were flowing,
As the hat, or the hand, or the handkerchief waved.
From the shores of old England we anxiously view’d them,
A cargo most precious, and dear to our sight;
Far o’er the blue surface affection pursued them,
Till the ship was conceal’d by the curtain of night.
They have left us,—their absence wakes mournful reflection,
As the fast sailing Arundel bears them away;
We can only consign them to heavenly protection,
To Him, whom the winds and the waters obey.
He who roves through the wood may quickly discover,
Their affection in tokens which there he will see;
Where with sorrowful heart each friend or each lover,
May sigh o’er their names in the bark of the tree.
[The end]
John Castillo's poem: Reflections On Absent Friends, Gone To America
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