Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/144

144  For sure that path will lead Up to a glorious home, Where happy spirits never part, And evil cannot come.

Her's was the hope that glows Unwavering and serene, The chasten'd spirit's meek repose In every changeful scene; Her's was the victor-power When mortal anguish came,— Child!—be thy holy trust thro' life, Thy peace in death, the same.

 

the forest-skirted plain A few rude cabins spread, And from their doors a humble train Pass'd forth with drooping head; They hied them to the dead man's home, Lone hearth, and vacant chair, Deep sorrow dimm'd that lowly dome, Yet rose no voice of prayer.

His widow'd wife was weeping loud, While closely to her breast, Affrighted at the unwonted crowd, A wondering infant prest, 