|Share page||Visit Us On FB|
TO A SISTER IN THE FAR WEST. 231
Where merry children thronging come
To catch a mother's smiles,
I too have left our father's hearth,
That place I lov'd so well, And in another tract of earth,
'Mid other scenes, I dwell.
Two little birds, of gladsome wing,
Alike in plume and song; Two flowers, as bright as those which spring
Your prairie-paths along, Demand my unremitting care
And claim my constant loveó My task, those dear ones to prepare
For the bright bowers above.
0 sister ! though our paths below
Far, far apart may lie, May we the gospel's influence shqw,
Till both arecall'd to die ! Often we'll meet, if but in thought,
While here we sadly roam ; And when our work is fully wrought,
Sister, we'll meet at home!