University of Virginia Library

Roused by the crowing cock at dawn of day,
I yet had risen too late to interchange
A morning salutation with my Host,
Gone forth already to the far-off seat
Of his day's work. ‘Three dark mid-winter months
‘Pass,’ said the Matron, ‘and I never see,
‘Save when the sabbath brings its kind release,
‘My helpmate's face by light of day. He quits
‘His door in darkness, nor till dusk returns.
‘And, through Heaven's blessing, thus we gain the bread
‘For which we pray; and for the wants provide
‘Of sickness, accident, and helpless age.
‘Companions have I many; many friends,
‘Dependants, comforters—my wheel, my fire,
‘All day the house-clock ticking in mine ear,
‘The cackling hen, the tender chicken brood,
‘And the wild birds that gather round my porch.
‘This honest sheep-dog's countenance I read;
‘With him can talk; nor blush to waste a word
‘On creatures less intelligent and shrewd.
‘And if the blustering wind that drives the clouds
‘Care not for me, he lingers round my door,
‘And makes me pastime when our tempers suit;—
‘But, above all, my thoughts are my support,
‘My comfort:—would that they were oftener fixed
‘On what, for guidance in the way that leads
‘To heaven, I know, by my Redeemer taught.’
The Matron ended—nor could I forbear
To exclaim—‘O happy! yielding to the law
Of these privations, richer in the main!—
While thankless thousands are opprest and clogged
By ease and leisure; by the very wealth
And pride of opportunity made poor;
While tens of thousands falter in their path,
And sink, through utter want of cheering light;
For you the hours of labour do not flag;
For you each evening hath its shining star,
And every sabbath-day its golden sun.’”