LAURA BRIDGMAN.
203
And bless'd Philosophy is near,
In Christian armour bright,
To scan the subtlest clew that leads
To intellectual light.
Say, lurks there not some ray of heaven
Amid thy bosom's night,
Some echo from a better land,
To make the smile so bright?
The lonely lamp in Greenland cell,
Deep 'neath a world of snow,
Doth cheer the loving household group
Though none beside may know;
And, sweet one, doth our Father's hand
Place in thy casket dim
A radiant and peculiar lamp,
To guide thy steps to Him?
