Why turn we from the fields, and wood-paths dim,
Through which we wended as the Sabbath bell
Called us to worship, with its solemn hymn?
Shall we not sigh to pray where friends have prayed,
Or weep our loved ones in the church-yard laid?”
The haughty bosom of the strong man shook
With an internal tempest, and he took
Her tiny hand within his own; his pride
Was bending, and he earnestly replied:
“Why do we leave it?—’tis a tale too long,