Poems (Angier)/Norah Nohone
NORAH NOHONE.
She pensively sitteth, This Norah Nohone,But she peevishly mourns not The days that are gone;There is hope in her heart, Though I hear a low sigh;As softly she murmurs, "Joys brightened to fly."
When first her bark floated O'er life's shining wave,To one skilful Pilot The rudder she gave:He has guided her safely Through tempest and calm;When billows dashed round her He shielded from harm.
Her lot has been woman's, Her fate, that of all;The light and the shadow, The sunshine and pall; And she yearns for a country, By sin undefiled,Where the sorrow-bowed spirit Is glad as a child.
But she cheerfully waiteth Her summons to go;That home, O! how sweet, Where the bright waters flow;There loved ones yet live, Though they've left her alone;She knows they keep watch Over Norah Nohone.