The hopes, the joys were like a spell,
And it was well! Yes, it was well!
And every hour of day and night
I feel an influence o'er me steal,
So soothing, pure, so holy, bright,
I would each human heart could feel
A fraction of the mighty tide
Of living joy it sends along.
Then why should I complain, and ask
Why none of heaven's angelic throng
Come to this earth with me to dwell,
For all is well,--all, all is well!
A SONG FROM THE ABSENT.
TO THE LOVED ONE AT HOME.
AWAY from home, how slow the hours
Pass wearily along!
I feel alone, though many forms
Around my pathway throng.
There's none that look on me in love,
Wherever I do roam;
I'm longing for thy gentle smile,
My dearest one, at home.
I walk around; strange things I see,
Much that is fair to view;
Man's art and Nature's handiwork,
And all to me is new.
But, ah! I feel my joy were more,
If, while 'mid these I roam,
It could be shared with thee I love,
My dearest one, at home.
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