EPISTLE to a FRIEND, ON HIS RETURN FROM THE ARMY

At length, war's bloody banner's furl'd, Peace spreads her influence o'er the world, You from the martial field retreat, To seek your old paternal seat, And, after five years absence, come Loaded with debts and glory home.

Of tender parents favourite son, Behold their happiness begun: No more the Gazette's glorious tale Now makes their anxious features pale, Lest on the verdant laurel's stem The cypress dark should grow for them. Joyful they hail the morning ray, And hope expectant gilds the day; For sure, they cry, ere close of light, Our absent son will bless our sight. Till eve they watch with aching eyes, And the next morn new hopes supplies.

And now the wish'd-for hour draws near, That drowns in transport every fear; Blest comfort of their waning lives, Their son, their much-lov'd son arrives!— On either side your bosoms glow, And mutual tears of rapture flow; I see, I see your generous breast With filial love and joy possess'd: I feel, my friend! that joy impart Fire to my sympathizing heart, And bid my artless pen portray The scenes that fancy's dreams display.

While yet still night, in sable robe, Broods o'er our quarter of the globe; While slumber wraps each labouring breast, And care herself is sooth'd to rest, Alone impatient of delay, Your thoughts anticipate the day: You rouse at once from Morpheus' reign The landlord and his menial train; The drowsy ostler cries in vain, " 'Tis dark, you cannot see your hand:" Booted and spurr'd you ready stand, And mounting swift your eager steed, Fearless through night and cold proceed.

Soon as Aurora's ruddy ray Beams forth to cheer you on your way, I see you sweep, with loosen'd rein, O'er hill and dale, thro' wood and plain: Now gallop down the steep, and now, Climbing the mountain's loftiest brow, Bend o'er the landscape wide your eye, Anxious your sire's abode to spy: The fleeting spot eludes your view, And seems to fly as you pursue.— Faint on the horizon's farthest mound, What hill is that with pine-trees crown'd? The well-known landmark strikes your sight; Your bosom swells with fond delight; Fancy's vain hope no longer yields: " Ye much-lov'd shades! ye blooming fields! " My eager steps," you cry, "once more " Your green recesses shall explore." And now, as with redoubled speed, Forward you urge your bounding steed, You see the well-known spire arise, And point its summit to the skies; And now, each envious barrier past, With heart-felt bliss you view at last The turrets of the your natal dome, Your parent's venerable home. Here memory's fond powers dispense Their influence o'er each raptur'd sense. 'Twas here, to pay a mother's care, You first imbib'd the vital air; Here each paternal art express'd, To soothe and charm your infant breast, Taught you in opening youth to prove The bliss sincere of filial love. Think how your parents' bosoms burn To welcome your long-wish'd return; Torn from their arms by glory's power, How have they told each tedious hour! Already to your eyes appear The faultering voice, the joyful tear.

Beside the road the peasants throng To see you swiftly pass along; And bowing as you gallop by, " 'Tis the young captain, sure," they cry: On you their greetings are all lost, Forward with eager zeal you post; To-morrow you'll return each bow, But warmer duties call you now.

Arriv'd at length, you touch once more Your father's hospitable door. The cheerful family surround The hearth with crackling faggots crown'd; Some friends partake the genial ray, Nor is the parish priest away. Of taxes, hay, and war, they chat, Of news and weather, this and that; Of the young soldier too they spoke, When a loud knock the converse broke. Astonish'd by a sound so loud, Around the window quick they crowd. When screams of joy their bliss declare, " 'Tis he, 'tis Belville come, I swear!" Your parents, sisters, round you throng, And transport loosens every tongue: Your sire exclaims, "Five years are past " Since I beheld my Belville last: " Your country call'd you to the field, " And I no more her sword could wield: " Well hast thou fill'd thy father's place, " Brave scyon of a warlike race: " Nor shall my arms your steps detain, " When e'er your country calls again." O'er the brave vet'ran's furrow'd cheek The beams of martial ardor break; And from the eye where courage glows, The tear of fond affection flows. With silent joy your mother stands, And grasps with trembling bliss your hands: Her present hopes, her future fears, Call forth alternate smiles and tears; And in her face those thoughts are shown, Which anxious mothers feel alone. Your sisters, too, the transport share, And, with soft friendship's mildest air, Demand if still your bosom prove The fondness of fraternal love. " How tedious pass'd," they cry, "the day, " When our lov'd brother was away: " You promis'd you would often write; " But the old proverb—Out of sight"—

Now ardent friendship's kindling joy, And filial love, your thoughts employ; And all the feelings of your breast Are on your blooming cheek express'd: A thousand questions, fondly made, By fond caresses are delayed; Transport forbids your words to flow, Nor can you answer yes, or no. And see the ancient dame appears, The fosterer of your infant years: " Lord bless me! how young master's grown? " I scarce should have the Captain known " Elsewhere, unless I had been told: " How well he looks in blue and gold! " Thank Heaven, he has neither maim nor wound, " But comes again quite safe and sound: " For war's at best a dangerous choice; " Good Sirs! how Madam must rejoice!"—

What social bliss! what charming ties! From parents, country, friends, arise! May they who scorn their rights to know, Ne'er feel the transports they bestow; And far from me and those I love, That stubborn breast, kind Heav'n, remove, Who meets unmov'd a mother's face, Who tearless feels a friend's embrace; Nor smiles to see those scenes rever'd, Which infant pastimes have endear'd.