Pleasant is it for the traveller
On his way to meet with succour,
Sweeter far when at his own home,
To receive fair woman’s welcome.
Woman cheerful in a family
Makes the group around so happy,
And her voice filled with affection,
Yields an Eden of communion.
Poor the man that roams creation
Without woman for companion,
Destitute of all protection,
Without her to bless his station.
Gentle Woman! all we covet
Without thee would be but wretched,
Without thy voice to banish sorrow,
Or sweet help from thee to borrow.
Thou art light to cheer our progress,
Star to brighten all our darkness,
For the troubled soul an anchor
On each stormy sea of terror.
THE FAITHFUL MAIDEN.
By Rev. Daniel Evans, B.D.
At the dawning of day on a morning in May,
When the birds through the forests were skipping so gay;
While crossing the churchyard of a parish remote,
In a district of Cambria, whose name I don’t note:
I saw a fair maiden so rich in attire,
Second but to an angel her mien did appear;
Quick were her footsteps in tripping the sand,
And flowers resplendent were borne in her hand.
I fled to concealment that I might best learn
Her object and wish in a place so forlorn,
Without a companion—so early the hour—
For a region so gloomy thus leaving her bower.