The Angel of Peace to the hearth-stone has come,
With a message of mercy to brighten each dream,
And as glad to the heart, as ’tis pure to the eye,
Is that homestead of beauty by Delaware’s stream.
The woodbine has curtained the threshold with flowers,
And the half-shaded sunbeams fall soft on the floor;
While the white-sanded streamlet is singing as sweet
As the echoes of music, when music is o’er.
The dew on each snow-drop is gem-like and bright,
And the lily is bathed in morn’s earliest beam,