’Tis loaded, too, with precious freight,
And for the same I stand and wait.
When it comes home I’ll happy be,
And all share my joy with me.
My wines at other feasts I’ll pour,
The sorrowful shall smile—yea, more,
The poor shall not be turned away,
And one and all shall bless the day.
Pablo Beach, Fla., January, 1887.