 | WOMAN'S MISSION.
Written on hearing a young Lady praise Home and its duties. Water-drops |  |
27. WOMAN'S MISSION.
Written on hearing a young Lady praise Home and its duties.
How sweet to hear those lips of rose
The cause of humble virtue pleading;
While Wit his dazzling weapon shows,
Advancing near, and now receding.
How sweet to see that sparkling eye
The bosom's sacred warmth confessing,
Where sleep those germs of sympathy
Whose fragrance heightens every blessing.
How sweet to know that gentle heart,
So skill'd to soothe the hour of sadness,
Will draw of pain the envemon'd dart,
And bid life's current flow with gladness.
Home is man's Ark, when trouble springs,
When gathering clouds meance his morrow;
And woman's love, the bird that brings
His olive-leaf, o'er floods of sorrow.
The cause of humble virtue pleading;
While Wit his dazzling weapon shows,
Advancing near, and now receding.
How sweet to see that sparkling eye
The bosom's sacred warmth confessing,
Where sleep those germs of sympathy
Whose fragrance heightens every blessing.
How sweet to know that gentle heart,
So skill'd to soothe the hour of sadness,
Will draw of pain the envemon'd dart,
And bid life's current flow with gladness.
Home is man's Ark, when trouble springs,
When gathering clouds meance his morrow;
And woman's love, the bird that brings
His olive-leaf, o'er floods of sorrow.
| WOMAN'S MISSION.
Written on hearing a young Lady praise Home and its duties. Water-drops | |