In the pure sunlight of the eternal land;
Or if sweet recollections of the past,
Of homes where love her golden radiance cast,
Of deeds of mercy unto man unknown,
But breathing incense to the star-gemmed throne;
We know that not one of Adamic race,
Is unknown unto Him, the Lord of Grace,
And with the thoughts that shape themselves to prayer,
We can but leave them in His gracious care,
Who, as sharp nails were piercing each vein through,
Prayed 'Father forgive, they know not what they do,'
And preached of mercy to the souls in prison,
Ere He from the well guarded tomb had risen;
So darling think as gently as you may,
On one you saw so sadly pass away.
But duty bids me tell you, deeds of shame,
Stamped dark dishonor on our household name,
When we were living in the distant west,
A trouble came; grief was no stranger guest,
For racking fears sad day and anxious night,
Seemed to hold life-long leases as their right,
The trouble came through some high words at play.
All I know was before noon next day,
A letter came bidding me leave that night;
Bring what I could and let none know my flight,
To change my name, and if need be to swear
I never knew 'Montrose' only 'Adair.'
Part truth, part falsehood born of inward shame,
That sank the true one for the middle name,
I heard that dark red stains ended a strife