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 Are odours of his life, The gentle-hearted, the heavenly-willed, Dearest, they breathe, those flowers, With our White, and Hobart, and Jebb, and Rose, 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 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, For so, her placid eye Looked down, when heart to heart, we walked, I sit among my silent books, And think, with what a pride, 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, 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 Beloved, "it is well!" The path that Jesus trod, March 2, 1833. TO MY DEAR SISTER. ON HER 19TH BIRTHDAY. My gentle sister, if the love, Most silently which run, And the deep earth has deeper founts, My gentle sister, could the thoughts, Then, gentle sister, think not hard, Then, sister dearest, with the year, To light thee on, in gentleness, God's blessing be thy portion here, His blessedness, above! TO MY DEAR SISTER. My gentle sister, twenty years, To day, have flitted by, Since first thou camest, a helpless thing, We welcomed thee, as best we might, With mingled smiles and tears; And poured, we could no more, our prayers, For blessings on thy years. And, sister sweet, our prayers were heard, God's blessed one thou art: Not, with the rich, or proud, or gay, But, with the pure in heart: His gifts, to thee, in gentleness And piety, are given; The treasures that endure, on earth, And never fail, in heaven. My gentle sister, thou hast been, Since first, thy new-born helplessness And stretched upon the shaded bank, Whole summer days, I lay, And watched, as with a parent's joy, And still, the holy bond endures, And still, a father's care |