The Watchful Mother Tarries Nigh

Why Should We Faint And Fear To Live Alone,since All Alone, So Heaven Has Willed, We Die?nor Even The Tenderest Heart, And Next Our Own,knows Half The Reasons Why We Smile And Sigh.

Sweet Is The Smile Of Home; The Mutual Look When Hearts Are Of Each Other Sure.

Love Masters Agony; The Soul That Seemed Forsaken Feels Her Present God Again And In Her Father's Arms Contented Dies Away.

The Trivial Round, The Common Task,would Furnish All We Ought To Ask.

Sweet Is The Infant's Waking Smile, And Sweet The Old Man's Rest-- But Middle Age By No Fond Wile, No Soothing Calm Is Blest.