To shed her tender moonbeams o'er the night;
Thou who hast placed the islands in the sea,
With that same Wisdom, Father, lead Thou me.
THE RUINED CABIN
There's a pathos in the solemn desolation
Of the mountain cabin sinking in decay,
With its threshold overgrown with vegetation,
With its door unhinged and mouldering away.
There's a weird and most disconsolate expression
In the sashless windows with their vacant stare,