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172 SONGS FROM THE ST. LAWRENCE.
Then let your hearts be cheerful as ye tread The narrow way, and bear the piercing blast;
For sure as your Redeemer groan'd and bled, So sure shall ye o'ercome the world at last.
M. W. S.
There was a voice so sweet, A smile so bright around that hearth, That angels from their blissful seat
Sped down to earth;
Watch'd o'er her dreams awhile, Shadow'd her brow with wings of love, Then flew, with the pure, lovely child,
To realms above.
They saw the flower was frail, And that the world was sterile, bleak; They took it ere a piercing gale
Should blanch its cheek.
Ye, who have rnoum'd the child, Ye, from whose eye the sad tear starts, Be thankful that she ever smil'd
Upon your hearts.
Think ye have rear'd a flower Too purely beautiful to stay; A plant which blooms in Heaven's high bower,