Page:Poems McDonald.djvu/20

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14
the emigrant's sabbath day.
And head close crouched beneath its feathery dress,
The wind-rock'd cradle soothes its weariness.
The twilight deepens in the welkin blue,
A few pale stars are glimmering faintly through—
Night's sentinels. But hark! what voices raise,
Within the forest depths, the hymn of praise?
'Tis childhood's melody, in sweet accord
Breaks forth the simple lay of hallow'd word,
And when the trembling notes almost expire,
A mother's tongue assists the timorous choir.

They cease—and borne upon the summer air,
Come the firm tones of pure and earnest prayer.
In solitary wilds that household band
Kneel to the God of nations—he whose hand
Hath guided safely thro' the parted day
Their pilgrim footsteps, in the narrow way.
They pray for home and friends, the dear ones bending,
Perchance for them when twilight shades are blending,
Before the mercy seat—but oh! the prayer
More fervently ascends, when pleading there
For the pure light of heavenly truth, to bless
Their lonely home within the wilderness.