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Oh! happy days! Oh
years that glided by,
Scarce chronicled by one poor passing sigh!
When the dark storm sweeps past us, and the soul
Struggles with fainting strength to reach the goal;
When the false baits that lured us only cloy,
What would we give to grasp your vanished joy!
From the cold quicksands of Life's treacherous shore
The backward light our anxious eyes explore,
Measure the miles our wandering feet have come,
Sinking heart-weary, far away from home,
Recall the voice that whispered love and peace,
The smile that bid our early sorrows cease,
And long to bow our grieving heads, and weep
Low on the gentle breast that lulled us first to sleep!
Ah! blessed are they for whom 'mid all their pains
That faithful and unaltered love remains;
Who, Life wrecked round them, - hunted from their rest, -
And, by all else forsaken or distressed, -
Claim, in one heart, their sanctuary and shrine -
As I, my Mother, claimed my place in thine!
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