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Show HOMEWARD. By Emeline ?? Smith. ?? in the autumn tide From summer wanderings far and wide-The pleasure and the peril past-Weary and won, we came at last To the bright river on whose shore We saw our own dear home once more. The tender smile of dying day O'er all the quiet landscape lay; The distant hills were crowned with gold. The woodlands wondrous to behold; The ?? were like enchanted ground Where fairy feet have danced their round And, gleaming ?? and a spring there, The blue, bright river lay so fair-So calm in its ?? rest-It held all heaven within its bread. Tell many a landscape softly bright, Full many a scene to wake delight, It still had been our happy fate In distant lands to contemplate; But now this long familiar view Awoke a gladness strangely new, And of our lips these words let fall, "This is the loveliest ?? of all." Whilst happy tears bedewed our eyes, And pleasure ?? itself in sighs, A deep and measureless content With every soft emotion blent; And thus we whispered, "When at last The journey of our lives is past, May we, dear Lord, to thy far home, As now, like happy pilgrims, come. Weary perchance but calmly blest By promise sweet of peace and rest."-Home Journal |