“Yes, hallowed be His Holy Name
Who formed thee what thou art!
Whose breath inspired the heav’nly flame
Now kindled in thy heart!
Whose love o’erflowing in thy breast
These vocal raptures stirred—
Whose angels hover round thy nest,
Thou orphan Prairie–bird!
“Methinks, I see that guardian throng
Still mirrored in thy face!
Thy voice hath stol’n their angel–song,
Thy form their angel–grace.
Oh breathe once more that plaintive strain,
Whose every tone and word,
Deep–treasured in my heart and brain
Shall dwell, sweet Prairie–bird!”
Delaware and Osage Camp,
Tuesday Night.—R. B.