Felicia Hemans

“ Bid thy true sons their children lead;
—The language of that noble brow
For all things good shall plead.
The spirit reared in patriot fight,
The virtue born of home and hearth,
There calmly throned, a holy light
Shall pour o'er chainless earth. ”

“ Unto the Spoiler's rod,
But joined at once the glorified,
Where angels walk with God.
So let us walk—the night must come
To us that comes to all;
We through the darkness must go home,
Hearing the Trumpet's call. ”

“ Well might the glories of this world seem nought
To the one promise given the pure in heart.
Yet wert thou blest e'en here—oh! ever blest
In thine own sunny thoughts and tranquil faith;—
The silent joy that still o'erflowed thy breast,
Needed but guarding from all change, by death. ”