On the Death of a Lady at Havana, whither she went for her Health

Ye say that with a smile she pastForth from her hallow'd bower,That her dark eye strange brilliance cast,To gild the parting hour;That on her cheek with radiance rareA kindling flush did burn,Ye view'd it as the promise fairOf health and glad return.

In many a fond and friendly breastDid parting sorrows stir,And many a lip with trembling blestThat lovely voyager;Light sped the white sail o'er the wave,And gathering to her side,True hearts that strove to shield and save,Her every wish supplied.

And still upon that tossing sea,Her idol boy was near,And tunefully his caroll'd gleeFell on a mother's ear;And well his glance its joy exprestTo watch the sea-bird's flight,Or trace amid the billow's crestThe phosphorescent light.

They sought that Isle, by beam and breeze,In changeless beauty drest,

Where the "world-seeking Genoese"Doth find a peaceful rest;But there where Winter's tempest gloomHath never dar'd to roll,Where Nature's flowers profusely bloom,Went down that flower of soul.

And far within her native westWhere glorious foliage waves,And where in recent verdure drest,Are seen her kindred graves,The memory of her cradle-sleep,Her childhood's glowing charms,Her ripen'd virtues, rich and deep,Affection's tear embalms.

Yet let not mourning Love despair,Within these smitten shades,The cypress wreath hath blossoms fairOf hope that never fades;'Twas her's to bless the haunts of pain,To love the good and wise,And lightly chasten'd, rise to gainThe bliss that never dies.