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THE SETTLERS.
Once again I tasted sorrow, With past joy was once more gay,Till the shade had gathered round me— And the fire had died away.
THE SETTLERS
WO stranger youths in the Far West, Beneath the ancient forest trees,Pausing, amid their toil to rest, Spake of their home beyond the seas;Spake of the hearts that beat so warmly, Of the hearts they loved so well,In their chilly Northern country. "Would," they cried, "some voice could tellWhere they are, our own beloved ones!" They looked up to the evening skyHalf hidden by the giant branches, But heard no angel-voice reply.All silent was the quiet evening; Silent were the ancient trees;They only heard the murmuring song Of the summer breeze, That gently played among The acacia-trees.And did no warning spirit answer, Amid the silence all around:"Before the lowly village altar She thou lovest may be found,
