THE HAPPY FAMILY.
RESPECTFULLY INSCRIBED TO MISS MARY G. T---N, OF HEMPSTEAD, L. I.
Hempstead, sweet, “lovely village of the plain,”
For thee the Muse would weave a grateful strain;
For erst around thy glowing scenes I strayed,
When summer's flowery garb thy form arrayed;
A stranger and an invalid I came,
For fell disease had paralyzed my frame;
But here, I met with friends whose hearts could feel
For wounded spirits that no art could heal;
Cherished by them, I snatched a short repose,
In calm forgetfulness of all my woes;
And almost felt, beneath one friendly dome,
The lost felicities and joys of home.
For one blessed mansion, Mary, still presents
An Eden of pure love and innocence,
The Happy Family,” par excellence.
Thy smile still lights it—Mary, 't is thy sire's,
Thy own paternal roof, which oft inspires
Such aspirations as my doubts beguile;
“Oh, that a home like this for me would smile!”
The very wish can chase the cloud of care,
And hope half mingles with the minstrel's prayer.
