dreaming to find
Nothing but gloom—I am helpless and blind.

Of all earthly joys I am nearly bereft,
No pleasure of friends, alone I am left,
Kind hearts there are some, though many, alas!
Send a curious gaze toward me as they pass;
One visitor daily—a small ray of sun
Just crossing my face, it gladly doth run—
Bringing me news of the weather and time,
And memories sweet of my own sunny clime.

They've taken my children away from their home,
For care, to them mother love is unknown;
Their smiles and caresses to strangers are given,
Alone, in despair, my fond heart is riven;
O! tell me, kind angels, shall I ever recover
To care for my children and heart-broken mother?
While sadly I'm thinking of joys that have passed,
For days like my childhood, in mercy I ask.

How strange seems the quiet, how foreign to one
Who reveled in beauty, in pleasure, and fun;
As healthy and happy and merry as May,
School-books in hand, I would hasten away.
But, listen! What noises are those that I hear?
In the silence strange fancies awaken my fear,
And terrible phantoms of lunatics try
To glare o'er my couch and stifle my cry.

Welcome, O! Death, do not leave me alone,
The future's unkind and hopes are all flown;
In pain and in anguish my sorrow untold;
In age most a child, yet in trouble grown old.
But God in His mercy one bright hope has given—
Saviour to love and rest in dear Heaven;
There beautiful music and many things fair,
While voices of loved ones with song fill the air.

Under the Rod.

lind and helpless alone I wait; The way seems dark and prayers too late, My anguished soul sends forth the cry, Father save me, ere I die; Save me for my children small, Leave them not to sin and fall, Sending forth the saddened call, Mother, come back, mother! Blind and helpless days wear by, Sick and friendless, left to die; The darkness deepens as I grope, Afraid to live, afraid to hope; They tell me of a better land, Lord, I cannot see Thy hand, Around me steals an icy band, Save me or I perish.

Waiting, Ever Waiting.

aiting, dreaming, waiting, by some flowing mystic rill, Waiting, hoping, waiting, strong desires my spirit fill; Waiting, restless waiting, Oh! could I join the busy throng, Waiting, patient waiting, for right to triumph over wrong. Waiting, weary waiting, as the hours creep slowly by, Waiting, sadly waiting, unnoticed by those passing nigh; Waiting, daily waiting, with fire alive in heart and brain, Waiting, yearly waiting, seeming but to wait for pain. Waiting, striving, waiting, wisdom's goal I feign would win, Waiting, weeping, waiting, ever bearing Adam's sin; Waiting, vainly waiting, the race is for the swift and strong; Waiting, sighing, waiting, pouring forth my grief in song. Waiting, fearing, waiting, while the shadows gather deep, Waiting, doubting, waiting, down the rocky cliffs they creep; Waiting, longing, waiting, for man's promises not filled, Waiting, trusting, waiting, Jesus speaks and all is stilled.

To My Daughter.

LINES RECEIVED FROM MY MOTHER.

y child, the cold dews of evening are 'round thee, Bereft of thy sight, And dark lines of sorrow and trials surround thee By day and by night. To-day I am sitting so dreary and lonely, Heart-sick and in pain, And wishing 'twere Heaven's will I could only Once see thee again. If so, I could bear all the pain and the sorrow Of life and its cares, And not fill the hours of the coming to-morrow With sighs and with tears. Like you, many hopes of the future I cherished When free from life's care, Just so, all my brightest fond visions have perished Like mists in the air. I still hope that God in His merciful kindness Thy sight will restore, And permit thee when perfectly healed of thy blindness To see us once more. But restore thee or not, one hope I will cherish At home and abroad, That I may submit to my fate, though I perish, And trust in my God.

Providence Hospital.

n our own native land a Hospital stands, Its praises I faintly would speak; To me it seems grand, enclosed in love's bands By the Sisters of Charity meek. These Sisters are lowly and humble and holy, All striving their God to obey; They watch o'er the poorly, while dreaming they surely Can all of their sufferings allay. Heaven's blessings are resting on them as they're testing Their freedom from sorrow and sin, And God will uphold them and angels enfold them, Till a heavenly crown they will win. My happiness lost on the world tempest-tossed, Weary and heart-sick with pain, Providently I came to Providence by name, Where my health I did quickly regain. In language though weak my thoughts I would speak, My gratitude is without bounds, To my nurses while blind and physicians so kind, And the owners of Providence grounds.

The Photograph.

uspending night with threads of light the sun with signals bold, Flashed o'er to moon his mate on high, and wondrous secret told; Together they a photograph of mother earth would make, When midnight dropped her curtains low and watching stars locked gate.