Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/170

A presence all around thee dwells,
    Of human life and death.
I need but pluck yon garden flower
    From where the wild weeds rise,
To wake, with strange and sudden power,
    A thousand sympathies.

Thou hast heard many sounds, thou hearth!
    Deserted now by all!
Voices at eve here met in mirth
    Which eve may ne'er recall.
Youth's buoyant step, and woman's tone,
    And childhood's laughing glee,
And song and prayer, have all been known,
    Hearth of the dead! to thee.

Thou hast heard blessings fondly pour'd
    Upon the infant head,
As if in every fervent word
    The living soul were shed;