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 | Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood |  |
272
FOR THE DEDICATION OF THE HOME OF THE FRIENDLESS.
Thou, whose love is always o'er us,
Wheresoe'er our wanderings be,—
Thou, whose angels float before us,
Viewless, luring all to Thee!—
Wheresoe'er our wanderings be,—
Thou, whose angels float before us,
Viewless, luring all to Thee!—
Gazing through the clouds of sorrow,
With a pitying smile, whose ray
Paints thy promise for the morrow,
In the glowing rainbow's play:—
With a pitying smile, whose ray
Paints thy promise for the morrow,
In the glowing rainbow's play:—
Thou, who speakest worlds to being,
Deign our humble Home to bless!
Where the lone and friendless, fleeing,
Shall Thy guiding hand confess.
Deign our humble Home to bless!
Where the lone and friendless, fleeing,
Shall Thy guiding hand confess.
Unto Thee thus consecrating
Our glad work, in happy bands,
Here may we abide, awaiting
Thine own “house not made with hands.”
Our glad work, in happy bands,
Here may we abide, awaiting
Thine own “house not made with hands.”
| Poems by Frances Sargent Osgood | |