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POEMS.
Of music, for thou journeyest toward the deep,.To which I shall return no more." The nightBrought her to her lone chamber, and she kneltAnd prayed, with many tears, to Him whose handTouches the wounded heart and it is healed.With prayer there came new thoughts and new desires.She asked for patience and a deeper loveFor those with whom her lot was henceforth cast,And that in acts of mercy she might loseThe sense of her own sorrow. When she roseA weight was lifted from her heart. She soughtHer couch, and slept a long and peaceful sleep.At morn she woke to a new life. Her daysHenceforth were given to quiet tasks of goodIn the great world. Men hearkened to her words,And wondered at their wisdom and obeyed,
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