Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/170

162

A presence all around thee dwells, Of human life and death. I need but pluck yon garden flower From where the wild weeds rise, To wake, with strange and sudden power, A thousand sympathies.

Thou hast heard many sounds, thou hearth! Deserted now by all! Voices at eve here met in mirth Which eve may ne'er recall. Youth's buoyant step, and woman's tone, And childhood's laughing glee, And song and prayer, have all been known, Hearth of the dead! to thee.

Thou hast heard blessings fondly pour'd   Upon the infant head, As if in every fervent word The living soul were shed;