My Husband's Birth-Day.
15
MY HUSBAND'S BIRTH-DAY.
THE robin's song, this April morn,
The sunshine on each glistening tree,
The healing on spring breezes borne,
Remind my lonely heart of thee;
Does the bird's song awake such thought
In thee, though far from home away?
Is the spring breeze with blessing fraught
For thee, on this thy natal day?
The sunshine on each glistening tree,
The healing on spring breezes borne,
Remind my lonely heart of thee;
Does the bird's song awake such thought
In thee, though far from home away?
Is the spring breeze with blessing fraught
For thee, on this thy natal day?
The birth-day! comes not now that sound
So full of hope as when of yore
Youth's pulses leaped with joyful bound,
And life, whose untried scenes glanced o'er,
Seemed filled with love and beauty all,
So heavenly radiant to the sight,
Without one shadowy cloud to pall
The heart-loved fancy and delight.
So full of hope as when of yore
Youth's pulses leaped with joyful bound,
And life, whose untried scenes glanced o'er,
Seemed filled with love and beauty all,
So heavenly radiant to the sight,
Without one shadowy cloud to pall
The heart-loved fancy and delight.
But though past are our youthful years,
And middle age around us throws
The weight of toil, of cares and fears,
Rich are the treasures she bestows—
True love, which sweetens care and toil;
Children, round whom our full hearts twine;
A trust in God whate'er befall,
These are our blessings—thine and mine.
And middle age around us throws
The weight of toil, of cares and fears,
Rich are the treasures she bestows—
True love, which sweetens care and toil;
Children, round whom our full hearts twine;
A trust in God whate'er befall,
These are our blessings—thine and mine.
