The properties, most precious of the rest,
In a superior measure and degree,
Without alloy, sparkling with inward light!
Unseen, untraced the process of his growth!--
No aid from any human hand or care!---
No nourishment from any earthly dews!
No ripening from our bright, material sun!
But secretly supplied by Providence
With some more pure, diviner aliment,
And with more heavenly, searching radiance fill'd;
For the superior comfort, higher bliss
Of that in-drinking eye the soul of man!

Thus sang I, when fallacious hopes were rais'd
Of his dear safety--whom, howe'er belov'd--
However strong in health, and firmly built
Like a fine statue of the antique world,
As if he might have reach'd a century
Without decrepitude, we ne'er again--
Nor we alone, no other human eye--
Can e'er behold! Then had I painted him
Returning, as he lately left our shores,
With all the fairness and the bloom of youth--
The light brown hair, and its soft yellow gleams,
Brightened with silver; thickening into shade,
Now with a dove-like, now a chesnut hue!
The smile of Peace and Love and joyful Hope!
And those blue eyes, through whose dark lash the soul,
Rejoicing, from its kind and happy home,
Look'd forth with rapture, artless, and uncheck'd!