Poor tired wanderer! gather all thy strength;
See, from the east gray morning dawns at length!
Hail to the breaking day! one moment more,
Tears, sighings, groans, and sorrows, all are o’er.
Raise up thy head—bright gleams the morning sun,
Hail to thy home in Heaven, poor sorrowing one!
July, 1840.
FOOTNOTE
[1] “Weeping may endure for a night, but joy cometh in the morning.”