 | Forest buds, from the woods of Maine |  |
182
LOST AND SAVED.
Darkly falls the stormy even,
Fiercely frowns the angry heaven,
While the bitter wind is calling,
And the driving sleet is falling.
Fiercely frowns the angry heaven,
While the bitter wind is calling,
And the driving sleet is falling.
Homeless, parentless and lonely,
Cared for by the angels only,
Roams a child, unblest by pity,
Through the mazes of the city.
Cared for by the angels only,
Roams a child, unblest by pity,
Through the mazes of the city.
No kind father's eye beholds her;—
No fond mother's love enfolds her,
And when evening shadows gather
Teaches her to say “Our Father!”
No fond mother's love enfolds her,
And when evening shadows gather
Teaches her to say “Our Father!”
Round her neck, with soft caresses,
Cling her wild neglected tresses,—
Hail and snow, with glittering spangles
Gemming all their golden tangles.
Cling her wild neglected tresses,—
Hail and snow, with glittering spangles
Gemming all their golden tangles.
183
None to smoothe their wavy beauty,—
None to guide to right and duty,—
None to show her worldly favor,
None to love, and none to save her.
None to guide to right and duty,—
None to show her worldly favor,
None to love, and none to save her.
Lost, poor friendless child, forever,
Castaway on life's wild river,—
Lost! amid its wild commotion
Rushing down to sin's dark ocean!
Castaway on life's wild river,—
Lost! amid its wild commotion
Rushing down to sin's dark ocean!
Where a proud and stately dwelling
Is of wealth and splendor telling,
By fatigue and sleep o'ertaken,
Sinks at last, the poor forsaken.
Is of wealth and splendor telling,
By fatigue and sleep o'ertaken,
Sinks at last, the poor forsaken.
On the marble steps reclining,
Pillowed by her tresses shining,
With the snow around her heaping,
Sinks she in her chilly sleeping.
Pillowed by her tresses shining,
With the snow around her heaping,
Sinks she in her chilly sleeping.
Bright the eye of morning flashes,
Beaming from its jetty lashes,—
Still with weary head reclining
Sleeps the child with tresses shining.
Beaming from its jetty lashes,—
Still with weary head reclining
Sleeps the child with tresses shining.
O'er her form the snow hath drifted,
And among her loose locks sifted,—
Silent lies she,—white and frozen,
On the bed so blindly chosen.
And among her loose locks sifted,—
Silent lies she,—white and frozen,
On the bed so blindly chosen.
184
Saved! from wretchedness and error—
Saved from guilt's remorseful terror,—
Saved from sorrow's weary wearing,—
Saved from hopeless, dark despairing.
Saved from guilt's remorseful terror,—
Saved from sorrow's weary wearing,—
Saved from hopeless, dark despairing.
“Saved!” the angel band are saying,—
“Saved from sinning—saved from straying,—
Gladly we the lost lamb gather
To the bosom of our Father!”
“Saved from sinning—saved from straying,—
Gladly we the lost lamb gather
To the bosom of our Father!”
| Forest buds, from the woods of Maine | |