Thus much I heard,--and unawares,
The sense of pity stole away
My loneliness and misery,--
When lo, a light step on the stairs!--

Ah joy!--the step that brings my own,
Safe from all harms and dangers in;--
My heart lifts up its thankful hymn,
And bids' good-night to night and moan.

I sleep,--I rest,--and I forget
The bridge-the night-lamp's level beams,
Till waiting out of happy dreams,
I see her watch-light shining yet.

God comfort those that watch in vain,--
I breathe to Him my voiceless prayer;
Pity their tears and their despair,
And bring the wanderers home again,



NEW YEAR, 1868.


Cradled in ice, and swathed in snows,
And shining like a Christmas rose,
Wreathed round with white chrysanthemums;
Heaven in his innocent, brave blue eyes,
Straight from the primal paradise,