THE FAITHFUL HOUSEWIFE.
I see her in her home content,
The faithful housewife, day by day,
Her duties seem like pleasures sent,
And joy attends her on her way.
She cares not for the loud acclaim
That goes with rank and social strife.
Her wayside home is more than fame;
She is its queen—the faithful wife.
When summer days are soft and fair,
And bird-songs fill the cottage trees,
She reaps a benison as rare,
As her own gentle ministries.
Peace shrines itself upon her face,
And happiness in every look;
Her voice is full of charm and grace,
Like music of the summer brook.
In winter when the days are cold,
And all the landscape dead and bare,
How well she keeps her little fold,
How shines the fire beside her chair!
The children go with pride to school,
The father's toil half turns to play;
So faithful is her frugal rule,
So tenderly she moulds the day.
Let higher stations vaunt their claim,
Let others sing of rank and birth;
The faithful housewife's honest fame
Is linked to the best joy on earth.
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