 | The Western home |  |
135
THE PLANT AT SEA.
Hold up thy head, thou timid voyager!
Vexed by the storm-clouds as they darkly roll,
And by those fiercely tossing waves that stir
Thy slender root, and try thy trembling soul.
Vexed by the storm-clouds as they darkly roll,
And by those fiercely tossing waves that stir
Thy slender root, and try thy trembling soul.
Sad change from that sweet garden, where the dew
Each morning glistened in thy grateful eye,
And where the roughest guest thy bosom knew
Was earnest bee, or gadding butterfly.
Each morning glistened in thy grateful eye,
And where the roughest guest thy bosom knew
Was earnest bee, or gadding butterfly.
It grieves me sore to see thy leaflets fade,
Wearing the plague-spot of the chilling spray,
And know what trouble I for thee have made:
Yet still bear on, meek partner of my way,
Wearing the plague-spot of the chilling spray,
And know what trouble I for thee have made:
Yet still bear on, meek partner of my way,
For in thy tender life I hold the chain
Of home and its delights, here on the lonely main.
Of home and its delights, here on the lonely main.
| The Western home | |