And may the dreaded thunder of thy voice,
Which bids the humble spirit to rejoice,
Recall the wanderer from his dangerous way,
And teach returning sinners how to pray.
O'er all the land may truth divine be spread,
And ev'ry heart, by holy teachings led,
Seek higher joys than earthly things afford,
And give due glory to our risen Lord.
And may the power that sheds its heaven-born light
O'er many a dwelling in this land to-night,
Direct me still, and guard me lest I stray,
And guide the orphan on her lonely way.
Which bids the humble spirit to rejoice,
Recall the wanderer from his dangerous way,
And teach returning sinners how to pray.
O'er all the land may truth divine be spread,
And ev'ry heart, by holy teachings led,
Seek higher joys than earthly things afford,
And give due glory to our risen Lord.
And may the power that sheds its heaven-born light
O'er many a dwelling in this land to-night,
Direct me still, and guard me lest I stray,
And guide the orphan on her lonely way.
THE POPLAR TREES.
Around our lowly cottage[1]
The poplars threw their shade,
And I lov'd to hear at evening
The sounds the low winds made.
The poplars threw their shade,
And I lov'd to hear at evening
The sounds the low winds made.
Oh, gently rustling branches,
How oft at "stilly night"
I've listen'd to your music
By the summer moon's soft light!
How oft at "stilly night"
I've listen'd to your music
By the summer moon's soft light!
- ↑ Our house at Clarenceville, occupied in the summer of 1847.
