Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/173

172 To the Redeemer, whom in days of youth She served and honour'd, and went home—went home.

—And now, Heaven bless thee, babe, whose tiny bark Is launch'd so lonely on this tossing sea Of time and change; and mid thy future course, If here, in our dark clime, thy years unfold, Bind her fair image to thy loving heart, My little one, and let thy father hear From thy young lips the same rejoicing words Of piety and peace, which thrill'd his heart With grateful prayer when at his fireside sat The chosen idol of his early love.