Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE STRANGER IN LOUISIANA, by FELICIA DOROTHEA HEMANS


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE STRANGER IN LOUISIANA, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: We saw thee, o stranger, and wept!
Last Line: And to watch for a step -- but the step was thine!
Alternate Author Name(s): Browne, Felicia Dorothea
Subject(s): Louisiana; Strangers


We saw thee, O stranger! and wept.
We looked for the youth of the sunny glance
Whose step was the fleetest in chase or dance:
The light of his was a joy to see,
The path of his arrows a storm to flee.
But there came a voice from a distant shore --
He was called -- he is found midst his tribe no more:
He is not in his place when the night-fires burn,
But we look for him still -- he will yet return!
His brother sat with a drooping brow
In the gloom of the shadowing cypress bough:
We roused him -- we bade him no longer pine,
For we heard a step -- but the step was thine!

We saw thee, O stranger! and wept.
We looked for the maid of the mournful song --
Mournful, though sweet, -- she hath left us long:
We told her the youth of her love was gone,
And she went forth to seek him -- she passed alone.
We hear not her voice when the woods are still,
From the bower where it sang, like a silvery rill.
The joy of her sire with her smile is fled,
The winter is white on his lonely head:
He hath none by his side when the wilds we track,
He hath none when we rest -- yet she comes not back!
We looked for her eye on the feast to shine,
For her breezy step -- but the step was thine!

We saw thee, O stranger! and wept.
We looked for the chief, who hath left the spear
And the bow of his battles forgotten here:
We looked for the hunter, whose bride's lament
On the wind of the forest at eve is sent:
We looked for the first-born, whose mother's cry
Sounds wild and shrill through the midnight sky! --
Where are they? Thou'rt seeking some distant coast,
Oh ask of them, stranger! -- send back the lost!
Tell them we mourn by the dark-blue streams,
Tell them our lives but of them are dreams!
Tell, how we sat in the gloom to pine,
And to watch for a step -- but the step was thine!





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