To My Sister

Lines written by the late A. L. Gordon     On 4th August, 1853,     Being three days before he sailed for Australia.     Across the trackless seas I go,     No matter when or where,     And few my future lot will know,     And fewer still will care.     My hopes are gone, my time is spent,     I little heed their loss,     And if I cannot feel content,     I cannot feel remorse.     My parents bid me cross the flood,     My kindred frowned at me;     They say I have belied my blood,     And stained my pedigree.     But I must turn from those who chide,     And laugh at those who frown;     I cannot quench my stubborn pride,     Nor keep my spirits down.     I once had talents fit to win     Success in lifes career,     And if I chose a part of sin,     My choice has cost me dear.     But those who brand me with disgrace     Will scarcely dare to say     They spoke the taunt before my face,     And went unscathed away.     My friends will miss a comrades face,     And pledge me on the seas,     Who shared the wine-cup or the chase,     Or follies worse than these.     A careless smile, a parting glass,     A hand that waves adieu,     And from my sight they soon will pass,     And from my memory too.     I loved a girl not long ago,     And, till my suit was told,     I thought her breast as fair as snow,     Twas very near as cold;     And yet I spoke, with feelings more     Of recklessness than pain,     Those words I never spoke before,     Nor never shall again.     Her cheek grew pale, in her dark eye     I saw the tear-drop shine;     Her red lips faltered in reply,     And then were pressed to mine.     A quick pulsation of the heart!     A flutter of the breath!     A smothered soband thus we part,     To meet no more till death.     And yet I may at times recall     Her memory with a sigh;     At times for me the tears may fall     And dim her sparkling eye.     But absent friends are soon forgot,     And in a year or less     Twill doubtless be anothers lot     Those very lips to press!     With adverse fate we best can cope     When all we prize has fled;     And where theres little left to hope,     Theres little left to dread!     Oh, time glides ever quickly by!     Destroying all thats dear;     On earth theres little worth a sigh,     And nothing worth a tear!     What fears have I? What hopes in life?     What joys can I command?     A few short years of toil and strife     In a strange and distant land!     When green grass sprouts above this clay     (And that might be ere long),     Some friends may read these lines and say,     The world has judged him wrong.     There is a spot not far away     Where my young sister sleeps,     Who seems alive but yesterday,     So fresh her memory keeps;     For we have played in childhood there     Beneath the hawthorns bough,     And bent our knee in childish prayer     I cannot utter now!     Of late so reckless and so wild,     That spot recalls to me     That I was once a laughing child,     As innocent as she;     And there, while Augusts wild flowrs wave,     I wandered all alone,     Strewed blossoms on her little grave,     And knelt beside the stone.     I seem to have a load to bear,     A heavy, choking grief;     Could I have forced a single tear     I might have felt relief.     I think my hot and restless heart     Has scorched the channels dry,     From which those sighs of sorrow start     To moisten cheek and eye.     Sister, farewell! farewell once more     To every youthful tie!     Friends! parents! kinsmen! native shore!     To each and all good-bye!     And thoughts which for the moment seem     To bind me with a spell,     Ambitious hope! loves boyish dream!     To you a last farewell!