50
A FATHER READING THE BIBLE.
'Twas early Day, and sunlight stream'd
Soft thro' a quiet room,
That hush'd, but not forsaken, seem’d,
Still, but with nought of gloom.
For there, serene in happy age,
Whose hope is from above,
A Father communed with the page
Of Heaven's recorded love.
Pure fell the beam, and meekly bright,
On his grey holy hair,
And touch'd the page with tenderest light,
As if its shrine were there!
