48
POEMS.
And she yearns for a country,
By sin undefiled,
Where the sorrow-bowed spirit
Is glad as a child.
By sin undefiled,
Where the sorrow-bowed spirit
Is glad as a child.
But she cheerfully waiteth
Her summons to go;
That home, O! how sweet,
Where the bright waters flow;
There loved ones yet live,
Though they've left her alone;
She knows they keep watch
Over Norah Nohone.
Her summons to go;
That home, O! how sweet,
Where the bright waters flow;
There loved ones yet live,
Though they've left her alone;
She knows they keep watch
Over Norah Nohone.
