Dearest, let that fountain be, TO MY DEAR SISTER. My sister, I remember, How lonely was my heart, Till thou, in all its joys and griefs, The pleasure and the pride, My sister, since you joined me, Through what vicissitudes, we've passed, Of darkness and of day. Yet still, thy love has steadfast been, Unchanged in cloud, or shine, My sister, to repay thee Is only, with the Lord, And He can make thy love, its own O! ever may His sheltering shield, And brightest beams of light, direct PHILADELPHIA, March 2, 1834. TO WILLIAM CROSWELL. "Perennis et Fragrans." WILLIAM, my brother and my bosom friend! Hand grasping hand, and heart enclosed in heart, So full of thought, so tranquil, so benign, With pride of soul, to hail thee friend of mine, I greet thee, with the legend of this book:"Fragrant and lasting," be thy memory here, And then a fadeless crown, through heaven's immortal year! BURLINGTON, Nov. 7, 1834. A PRAYER. GRANT me, great Lord, Thy graces three, Faith, and Hope, and Charity; To suffer all; to know no pride; Teach me, through every earthly ill, Then Faith, and Hope, and Charity Will lead me on, to Heaven, through Thee. THE GERANIUM LEAF. "It grew and blew, in my little room, and I pressed it in my Bible." TEN thousand thanks, my dearest, for this precious little leaf, I gaze upon its greenness, and I think of where it blew, Be ever thus, my gentle one, the Bible at thy side, Nor trust the love, that only drinks at fountains of the earth, 1838. SPRING THOUGHTS. DEAREST, those purple flowers, They seem to me to spring, From the grave of him, whose loving breast Was wont to be the living nest Of each beautiful thought and thing. Dearest, those early flowers, They speak to me of him, With the youthful mind, so richly stored Dearest, those fragrant flowers The gentle-hearted, the heavenly-willed, Dearest, they breathe, those flowers, Dearest, they say, those flowers Earth's winter womb's first born"So shall the dead in Christ arise, Heirs of the world, beyond the skies, On the resurrection morn." 1839. TO MY WIFE. My only, and my own one, How dark and drear, the day That drags its lingering hours along ; When thou art far away, The loveliness, that lighted up My life, no longer nigh, And hushed the voice, that used to fill My soul with melody. High, in the broad blue firmament, My aching heart in sadness sinks, For so, her placid eye Looked down, when heart to heart, we In hours of joy, gone by. walked, I sit among my silent books, I listen, for thy gentle step, I watch the opening door; The page is marked, the pen laid down, Alas! thou comest no more. By day or night; at home, abroad, The thought of thee, my absent love, Has earth a joy, my soul so craves, TO MY WIFE. "It is well."* BELOVED, "it is well!" God's ways are always right; And love is o'er them all, Though far above our sight. Beloved, "it is well!" Though deep and sore, the smart, He wounds, who skills to bind, Beloved, "it is well!" Though sorrow clouds our way, "Twill make the joy more dear, That ushers in the day. * In a little book of Dr. Bedell's, having this title. VOL. I.-42 |