Page:Poems Holley.djvu/116

Rid thee he shall of many noisome things;
  And thou shalt praise the snow
  When drinking far below
Refreshment sweet from overflowing springs.

  "My child thou'rt not alone,
  I love thee, hear thy moan,
But winds that fret thee only causeth thee
  To more securely stand,
  More firmly clasp my hand,
And soaring upward, closer cling to me."

  Then from my burdened heart
  The shadows did depart,
Then said I softly—"winds of sorrow blow
  So I but closer cling
  To thee, my Lord, my King,
Who loves me, even me, so weak and low."