The distant dear ones, and would talk of them He ocean deep Now lies at rest. Be thou her comforter, Who art the widow's friend! Man does not know She gazed upon her children, and beheld 7 NORMAN PILGRIMS. THE CROSS. BY J. F. HOLLINGS. OVER many a mountain steep; Shines to cheer the toilsome hour. Traced through many a varied scene Thus our earthly course hath been ; And perchance ere life shall set Many a toil may wait us yet; But, if graved with deathless lines In our heart that symbol shines, Which to aid and comfort nigh, Thus but meets the outward eye; All that cheers our travel here— All of anguish-trouble-fearDoubt and discontent and pain Shall beset our path in vain. Lighted by its far shed gleam Life one reign of hope shall seem, Earth a scene by beauty drest— Heaven a glorious home of rest; Gladness as the morning light Shall be on each rugged height; In the darkest valley's shade Peace shall meet us undismayed, And each track the desert shows Bloom with promise as the rose. |