Sad is your tale of the beautiful earth,
Birds that o’ersweep it in power and mirth!
Yet through the wastes of the trackless air
Ye have a guide, and shall we despair?
Ye over desert and deep have pass’d—
So may we reach our bright home at last!
THE GRAVES OF A HOUSEHOLD.
They grew in beauty side by side,
They fill’d one home with glee;—
Their graves are sever’d far and wide,