 | Forest buds, from the woods of Maine |  |
79
THY BLESSING.
I cannot come to thee as in the days
Long past, but not forgotten;—I have been
Since then through many dark and dreary ways,
Through much of care, and weariness, and sin.
Long past, but not forgotten;—I have been
Since then through many dark and dreary ways,
Through much of care, and weariness, and sin.
Thy path lies calmly 'mid the pastures green
And the still waters of the better land,
While vainly yearning for that rest serene,
My feet still press life's burning desert-sand.
And the still waters of the better land,
While vainly yearning for that rest serene,
My feet still press life's burning desert-sand.
And yet, in spirit and in truth I come
To crave thy blessing, ere I wander far
Across the waste of ocean's plashing foam,
Obedient to my chosen guiding-star.
To crave thy blessing, ere I wander far
Across the waste of ocean's plashing foam,
Obedient to my chosen guiding-star.
And by a gentle faith, which long hath shed
Its radiance on a pathway dim and cold,
I feel thy shadowy hand upon my head,
And hear thy whispered blessing as of old.
Its radiance on a pathway dim and cold,
I feel thy shadowy hand upon my head,
And hear thy whispered blessing as of old.
80
My glad heart rises every fear above,
Strengthened by the inspiring words to say,—
“I will be true to duty and to love,
And follow wheresoe'er they lead the way!”
Strengthened by the inspiring words to say,—
“I will be true to duty and to love,
And follow wheresoe'er they lead the way!”
| Forest buds, from the woods of Maine | |