Their bosoms heaving and their thoughts in gloom.
“O! what,” cried Mary, “is our coming fate?
And where, my husband, is our future home?
Will not dire famine on our footsteps wait,
And perils meet us whereso’er we roam?
Our harvest gone, who now can food supply?
Forced from this roof, where shall our children lie?”
LXIII.
“Trust we in God!” our pious Founder said;
“Doubt not the bounty of His providence,