 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
258
A GLIMPSE OF EDEN.
Not many rays of heaven's unfallen sunReach the dull distance of this world of ours,
Nor oft dispel its shadows cold and dun,
Nor oft with glory tinge its faded flowers:
But, oh, if ever yet there wandered one,
Like Peri from her amaranthine bowers,
Or ministering angel sent to bless,
'Twas to thy hearth, domestic happiness;
Where sweet Contentment sings her cheery psalm,
And in the sunshine of a peaceful home
Loves choicest roses wear their summer dress;
And if some lurking evils that way roam
As chance they will, there Gilead's healing balm
Soothes every sorrow with its heavenly calm.
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