And southern smiles, such pleasure brought ;
The land that lay on Ganges' banks
Was exile to his dreaming thought !
The Highland stream, with speckled trout.
The fir-groves on the purple hill,
The cold lake of a northern shore,
The deep glen with its gurgling rill,
The red hue of the fading beech
Whose root was in the new-fall'n snow,
The old grey castle smiling stern
Beneath a wintry sunset's glow,
Gay Christmas greetings by a hearth
Which was his Sire's in days of yore,
Sold by the ruined Laird who ne'er
Should give such Christmas greeting more
Old joyous toasts, so cheerly quaffed
Around the hospitable board,
In halls adorned with antlers broad,
And sportsmen trophies, proudly stored ;
Sweet wanderings in the birchen groves,
And down among the golden broom,
With a pale cousin, who was once
The angel of his ruined home ;
Kind words,--proud words,--from her, to lift
His heart above the lesser pride,
That mourned the fall of lineage old
And things his youth had deified ;
Comfort, that sprang, he scarce knew how,
From gloom that seemed like some murk night,
On which her words came out like stars
And pointed to the path of right ;
The farewell of old friends ; the death
(Like many trifles, big with pain,)
Of an old favourite deer-hound, brought
With him to sail the distant main ;--
These crowding fancies haunt his soul;
And o'er the sea with dreamy gaze
He idly looks,--and sadly sings
A song she taught in happier days. Notes From the Victorian Newspaper The Geelong Advertiser 10 Jul 1851 p. 2.