Poems.
137
It comes at soft and dewy eve,
Its gentle influence to weave
Around my soul;
And if I waken in the night,
'T is still before me fresh and bright,
With full control.
Its gentle influence to weave
Around my soul;
And if I waken in the night,
'T is still before me fresh and bright,
With full control.
Though but a thought, it hath the power,
To cast a gladness o'er each hour,
"To calm and cheer;"
E'en should the vision prove untrue,
It gives my soul a brighter hue,
While resting here.
To cast a gladness o'er each hour,
"To calm and cheer;"
E'en should the vision prove untrue,
It gives my soul a brighter hue,
While resting here.
Then stay, sweet vision, linger yet,
I'll bless the hour when first we met,
And claim thee mine;
But should'st thou ever truant prove,
Oh, never would my spirit move
Again to thine.
I'll bless the hour when first we met,
And claim thee mine;
But should'st thou ever truant prove,
Oh, never would my spirit move
Again to thine.
ON THE DEATH OF MRS. S. A. H.
"Even so Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight."Holy Writ.
Once more the archer bent his bow,
Again his arrow sped,
Again his arrow sped,
