 | THE WEEPING WIFE. Water-drops |  |
34. THE WEEPING WIFE.
I see a weeping wife,—
What grieves her to the heart?
Has Death amid her treasured joys
Launched forth a fatal dart?
No!—'Tis a living woe
That makes her eye so red,—
The father of her children bears
The plague-spot on his head.
There's cursing on his tongue,—
There's madness in his brain;—
He yieldeth to a demon's will,
And darkly clanks his chain.
Haste!—stir his blinded soul
With kindly words and strong,—
And snatch him from the yawning pit
To which he reels along.
Nor let your pitying cares,
Your earnest labors cease,
What grieves her to the heart?
Has Death amid her treasured joys
Launched forth a fatal dart?
No!—'Tis a living woe
That makes her eye so red,—
The father of her children bears
The plague-spot on his head.
There's cursing on his tongue,—
There's madness in his brain;—
He yieldeth to a demon's will,
And darkly clanks his chain.
Haste!—stir his blinded soul
With kindly words and strong,—
And snatch him from the yawning pit
To which he reels along.
Nor let your pitying cares,
Your earnest labors cease,
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Till clothed, and in his own right mind,
He dwells in love and peace.
So, from the heart and home,
Once desolate and drear,
Your names, shall on the household prayer
Go up, with grateful tear.
He dwells in love and peace.
So, from the heart and home,
Once desolate and drear,
Your names, shall on the household prayer
Go up, with grateful tear.
| THE WEEPING WIFE. Water-drops | |