Poems.
41
I bade them come in and freely stay,
And warm themselves at the grate;
They had come a long and a weary way,
Had not eat a mouthful all the day,
And the hour was getting late.
And warm themselves at the grate;
They had come a long and a weary way,
Had not eat a mouthful all the day,
And the hour was getting late.
They were going, she said, to a distant friend,
To learn of her husband's fate;
But the storm so raged, were obliged to bend
Their steps to my door, to get me to lend
Some help to their perishing state.
To learn of her husband's fate;
But the storm so raged, were obliged to bend
Their steps to my door, to get me to lend
Some help to their perishing state.
A welcome I gave her to tarry all night,
With her poor, little, weary child,
And not venture forth, till the morning's light
Had driven away the gloomy sight
Of the ravaging storm on the wild.
With her poor, little, weary child,
And not venture forth, till the morning's light
Had driven away the gloomy sight
Of the ravaging storm on the wild.
Poor woman! her eyes were o'erflowing with tears,
Her heart with sorrow was aching,
She had tasted but few of life's short years,
Which were deeply marked with hopes and fears,
And the ties of the world seemed breaking.
Her heart with sorrow was aching,
She had tasted but few of life's short years,
Which were deeply marked with hopes and fears,
And the ties of the world seemed breaking.
