39. Memory
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MY home is now a thousand miles away; |
Yet in my thoughts its every image fair |
Rises as keen, as I still linger'd there, |
And, turning me, could all I loved survey. |
And so, upon Death's unaverted day, |
As I speed upwards, I shall on me bear, |
And in no breathless whirl, the things that were, |
And duties given, and ends I did obey. |
And, when at length I reach the Throne of Power, |
Ah! still unscared, I shall in fulness see |
The vision of my past innumerous deeds, |
My deep heart-courses, and their motive-seeds, |
So to gaze on till the red dooming hour. |
Lord, in that strait, the Judge! remember me! |
Off Cape Trafalgar.
December 15, 1832. |