Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/228

228 Had overtaken it, and still ye toil'd To train her as a servant of your Lord. —Together now, with lingering steps ye tread That steep, declining path of life which leads Down to the flood of Jordan.—Oh my God! Now in the feebleness of hoary hairs Forsake them not. On this their natal day Lift up the glory of thy countenance, And bid their childless home, their lonely breasts, Glow with that cheering radiance which now gilds Yon chambers of the east.—Whate'er they need, The gift of healing, or the light of faith, Or confidence of prayer, vouchsafe to grant; And all that measureless and priceless love Which o'er my earthly journey they have strewn, Shed thou again on them. Hast thou not said A mother's kindness to her new-born babe, Weigh'd with thy mercy to the trusting soul, Was but forgetfulness?—Therefore I rest My cause with thee,—for thou hast been their trust Onward from blooming youth, and years mature To weary age. What is a daughter's prayer Though steep'd in all the agony of tears, Compared with the compassions of a God! —Be still, my soul!—and at the altar's foot Kneel in adoring gratitude, nor fear To trust that wisdom which hath never err'd, That love which guides the wounded sparrow's fall, And that eternal truth on which the arch Of heaven is rear'd, and heaven's rejoicing host Hang all their fulness of immortal bliss.