While cannon’s deep thunder announces the morn;
Full gladly I welcome the din and the rattle,
’Tis only for thee, wife, my heart is forlorn.
Wife of my bosom, in God’s blessed keeping
Our lives are still mingled, though parted are we;
Above us He watcheth, with mercies unsleeping,
Wife of my bosom, o’er thee and o’er me.
I dare the wild conflict, where lives must be rended,
But faith in my bosom now brightens with morn;
By thy prayers in the past I have still been defended,