And wiping the tears from her eyes,
And he strengthened the chain he had broken in twain,
And fasten’d it firm to the skies!
There had whisper’d a voice—twas the voice of her God,
“I love thee—I love thee—pass under the rod!”
I saw the young mother in tenderness bend
O’er the couch of her slumbering boy,
And she kissed the soft lips as they murmur’d her name,
While the dreamer lay smiling in joy.
O, sweet as a rose bud encircled with dew,