s of deepening night, Hang over my path like the pall of despair; For one star through the gloom sends its hallowed light, And I know 'tis thy love smiling tenderly there, --Ah! tenderly there.
I will not despair, though the fountain that burst For me in life's desert be wasted and dry; For thy love was the fountain that cheered me at first, And again to its life-giving waters I fly-- O Holiest, fly! No; I will not despair while thy hand points me on, Though flowerless and thorny the path where I roam. For a calm sunlight rests on the far hills beyond, And I know 'tis the radiance that streams from my home, --Home, beautiful home!
A PEN PICTURE FROM THE OLD TESTAMENT.
Upon the plain of Dura stood an image great and high, With golden forehead broad and bright beneath the morning sky; All regal in its majesty and kingly in its mien, The grandest and most glorious thing the world had ever seen!
Full sixty cubits high in air the lordly head wa