Oh friends, it is a simple phrase, To drive the strongest reason frantic - That " Kate ha gone " or " Walter says Just now " beyond th' Atlantic. A measured space, tliat time May speed the absent saíely over. May hurry back to native clime And waiting ones, the rover._ But, ah ! so hard to look across, When night falls darkorwinds are howling, Without remembering wreek and loss, And wild storm-demons prowling ! So prone the fancy is to form ])ark dreams of loved ones sinkinj failing, Nay, over the bosoms lett so warm Those winds in churchyards wailing. So hard to close the mental eyes To what must be to pain and danger - Ere on the waiting view can rise The dear returuing stranger !