Arouse thee, then, despairing man.
And hail with hope—Eternity!
Glows in thy cell a fragrant bloom,
Plucked from thy guardian angel's wreath.
Do thou but nurture it with prayer
And water it with tears of faith.
To humble hearts its petals ope,
Revealing bliss to streaming eye—
Immortal blooms this rose of hope,
God's flower of life—Eternity.
The Prisoner's Mother.
BY MRS. S. E. WIRICK.