a prayer for my sister.
81
"But the thorns I've always gathered,
For they in my pathway lay,—
Shunning never the few flowers
That were scattered by the way."
For they in my pathway lay,—
Shunning never the few flowers
That were scattered by the way."
As I thus sat sadly musing,
Thy sweet voice fell on mine ear,
Ringing out so glad and joyous,
Bird-like, musical and clear.
Thy sweet voice fell on mine ear,
Ringing out so glad and joyous,
Bird-like, musical and clear.
"Thou art happy, dearest sister,"
Thus I murmured sad and low,—
"May no darkling shadow ever
Dim thy pathway here below;
Thus I murmured sad and low,—
"May no darkling shadow ever
Dim thy pathway here below;
"But like yonder flowing river,
Like that fair and silvery stream,
May thy life glide sweetly onward,
Happy as a poet's dream—
Like that fair and silvery stream,
May thy life glide sweetly onward,
Happy as a poet's dream—
"Like that far-off land of sculpture.
That sweet sunny, southern clime,
Where 'tis always smiling summer,
Never chilly winter time!"
That sweet sunny, southern clime,
Where 'tis always smiling summer,
Never chilly winter time!"
