Hail solitary chimney! peeping white
’Mid the dark trees, I hail thy sight,
Thou harbinger of comfort, & of rest,
By ev’ry weary traveller confessed:
But chiefly, he, who long has left his home,
Returning, sees from far the tranquil dome;
How does his heart with strong emotions glow,
When gazing wistful on the dale below,
He sees the curling vapour reach the skies,
Which from his dear paternal chimney flies;
What lovely pictures then doth mem’ry trace
Filling the circle with each dear lov’d face,
He sees his mother, & his cheerful sire,
His blooming sisters, round the social fire.
And who is she so pensive, yet so young?
Who on a portrait o’er the chimney hung
Gazes with tender smile & glist’ning eye?
While her fair bosom gently breathes a sigh.
Ah ’tis the chosen maiden of his heart,
His cherish’d love, his hope, his better part.
Now swifter than before he moves along,
While hopes & fears his beating bosom throng,
He clears the well known stile with nimble bound,
And like the swallow seems to skim the ground.
How glows his cheek, with hope & joy elate,
When turning quick, he sees the garden gate,
The watchful dog, the family alarms,
And all in breathless joy he rushes to their arms!