For I make my heart the home
Of all hearts in grief that come
Seeking refuge and a rest.
Do not fear me, for you know,
Be your footsteps e'er so low,
I know yours, of all, the best.
Once you came; and you brought sin;
Did not my hand lead you in --
Into God's heart, thro' my own?
Did not my voice speak a word
You, for years, had never heard --
Mystic word in Mercy's tone?
And a grace fell on your brow,
And I heard your murmured vow,
When I whispered: "Go in peace."
"Go in peace, and sin no more,"
Did you not touch Mercy's shore,
Did not sin's wild tempest cease?
Go! then: thou art good and pure!
If thou e'er shouldst fall, be sure,
Back to me thy footsteps trace!
In my heart for year and year,
Be thou far away or near,
I shall keep for thee a place.
Yes! I bless you -- near or far --
And my blessing, like a star,
Shall shine on you everywhere;
And in many a holy hour,
As the sunshine folds the flower,
I will fold thy heart in prayer.
July 9th, 1872
Between two pillared clouds of gold
The beautiful gates of evening swung --
And far and wide from flashing fold
The half-furled banners of light, that hung
O'er green of wood and gray of wold
And over the blue where the river rolled,
The fading gleams of their glory flung.
The sky wore not a frown all day
To mar the smile of the morning tide;
The soft-voiced winds sang joyous lay --
You never would think they had ever sighed;
The stream went on its sunlit way
In ripples of laughter; happy they
As the hearts that met at Riverside.
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