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Poem by Maria Jane Jewsbury The Oceanides. No. 8. A New Year's Day Song THERE is wintry cold and snow At home, on mount or lea; With us, 'tis summer’s glow, As we sweep the Indian sea. Last year, around some hearth— Where now his place is filled, Sat each, partaking mirth That now to him is stilled. The blazing Christmas fire Is but a name of cheer, As from foe or demon dire Should we shrink, if it were here: And robes defying cold, Are but treasures in the North;— From the muslin’s snowy fold We languidly look forth. Our Sun too fiercely bright, When westward sink his rays How start we with delight! How bless each breeze that plays! Ay, every gusty air, Though brined by spray and billow, Is wooed, as never were Sweet winds from rose and willow. Closed doors, and shutters fast, The joys of winter eve, They are numbered with the past; Or, when the heart would weave Some fond memorial spell, (For some beloved one nigh,) Of all that distant dwell— Are remembered with a sigh! Do they think of us to-day?— Amid their new-year glee, Will old wishes find a way, To their wanderers o’er the sea? They know not where we are— With the near ones do we share?— Do they drink "The dear and far," With a fond and silent prayer?— They do! Our own, our own, Where’er their homes may be; And their hearts are not alone, We pledge them from the sea! "Health, health, and double love Wherever love we owe"— Alas! none answer, but above The clouds—the waves, below! Maria Jane Jewsbury Maria Jane Jewsbury's other poems:
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