How gentle we are with our dear ones when swiftly the tide rushes by;
How ready to share in each trouble, how ready to echo each sigh.
How loving we are with our dear ones, ambitious to lighten the cross;
More anxious to carry the burden, the greater the pain and the loss.
How pleasant we are with our dear ones, how gladly with them we rejoice;
How eager to follow their footsteps, from duty, and pleasure, and choice.
EVEN-TIDE.
What ruddy splendor floods the molten west!