And thus was the lover so long delayed;
And so as he rode with his warriors gay,
On that bright and beautiful summer day,
His bride he met on the trail mid-way,
By the haunts of the treacherous Chippeway.

God arms the innocent. He is there--
In the desert vast, in the wilderness,
On the bellowing sea, in the lion's lair,
In the midst of battle, and everywhere.
In his hand he holds with a father's care
The tender hearts of the motherless;
The maid and the mother in sore distress
He shields with his love and his tenderness;
He comforts the widowed--the comfortless,
And sweetens her chalice of bitterness;
He clothes the naked--the numberless,--
His charity covers their nakedness,--
And he feeds the famished and fatherless
With the hand that feedeth the birds of air.
Let the myriad tongues of the earth confess
His infinite love and his holiness;
For his pity pities the pitiless,
His wayward children his bounties bless,
And his mercy flows to the merciless;
And the countless worlds in the realms above,
Revolve in the light of his boundless love.

And what of the lovers? you ask, I trow.
She told him all ere the sun was low,--