Page:Memorials of a tour on the continent, 1820 (IA memorialsoftouro00word).pdf/61

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Oh ye, who guard and grace my Home
While in far-distant Lands we roam,
Enquiring thoughts are turned to you;
Does a clear ether meet your eyes?
Or have black vapours hid the skies
And mountains from your view?

I ask in vain—and know far less
If sickness, sorrow, or distress
Have spared my Dwelling to this hour:
Sad blindness! but ordained to prove
Our Faith in Heaven's unfailing love
And all-controlling Power.