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Literary Gazette, 24th January, 1835, Page 59
The woman raised her languid head,
And said, "My child was weak—
He knew no one amid the dead
His daily food to seek!
My husband was a hunter good
As ever arrows bore:
I know my child will now have food,
Therefore I weep no more.
I sit and think upon the past,
And sing my mournful strain:
I know that we shall meet at last,
And never part again."
" Oh! strong in love," the traveller cried,
"Worthy a hope divine—
I would that all whom God hath tried,
Had faith as meek as thine!"L. E. L.
