Page:Poems Toke.djvu/291

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283

And though around us cares and sorrows press,
Yet countless mercies hover o'er us still;
And we with thankful hearts the hand must bless
That still with joys our cup can fill.

And oh! how thankful, that while war and death
Have plunged alike in mourning hut and hall,
No fondly loved one fills a grave beneath
Thy blood-stained walls, Sebastopol!

No, still our children cluster round our hearth;
And while in life and health they glad our home,
We well may smile upon the cares of earth,
And look with hope on years to come.

God bless them all! and mayst thou live to see
Their pathway that for which our hearts have yearned;
Each prove in turn Heaven's choicest gift to be,
A blessing lent from God, to Him with joy returned.

E.

October 6, 1855.