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XIII. A BALLAD.

[Far o'er the Western ocean]

Far o'er the Western ocean,
Whose billows touch the sky,
Whose fearful, troubled motion
Calls forth my deepest sigh;
Far o'er that ocean taken,
My love's beyond the sea,
But though by sorrow shaken,
He'll come again to me.
Some say that I'm deserted,
They flout, and jeer, and scorn;
And Slander's hounds are started,
Because I am forlorn:
That I am not forsaken
He'll make them blush to see;
And though by sorrow shaken,
He'll come again to me.

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I weep not at distresses,
That heavenly lore impart;
For while misfortune presses,
We learn to mend the heart:
I weep that he is taken
Beyond the stormy sea;
My children seem forsaken,
But he'll come back to me.
And through life's stormy weather,
That chastens from above,
We'll twine our hearts together,
A family of love!
We'll praise the Power that chastens,
And bend to Him the knee,
Who rules the wind that hastens
To waft him back to me.
END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.