Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/114



, who wak'st by the bed of pain, While the stars sweep on with their midnight train, Stifling the tear for thy loved one's sake, Holding thy breath lest her sleep should break, In thy loneliest hour there's a helper nigh: "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

Stranger, afar from thy native land, Whom no one takes with a brother's hand, Table and hearthstone are glowing free, Casements are sparkling, but not for thee; There is one who can tell of a home on high: "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

Sad one, in secret bending low, A dart in thy breast that the world may not know, Wrestling the favour of God to win, His seal of pardon for days of sin: Press on, press on, with thy prayerful cry, "Jesus of Nazareth passeth by."

Mourner, who sitt'st in the churchyard lone, Scanning the lines on that marble stone, Plucking the weeds from thy children's bed, Planting the myrtle and rose instead,