Page:Pleasant Memories.pdf/21

On couch and mattress ranged around,
    The sick forgot their grief,
And drank the healing lore of heaven,
    As dew the thirsty leaf.

Poor Erin's ardent sons
    Up from the steerage came,
And in their rude response invoked
    Jehovah's awful name;
And little children gathered near,
    Blest in their guileless years,
Hands folded close, and lips apart,
    And thoughts that moved to tears.

Filled with the scene sublime,
    The priestly heart grew bold,
To speak with eloquence of Him,
    Who the great deep controlled;
And loftier was his youthful brow,
    And deep his tuneful voice,
That warned the sinner to repent,
    And bade the saint rejoice.

A spell was on the heart,
    That bowed the proudest head,
Above us the eternal skies,
    Beneath our feet the dead;
The dead who knew no burial rite,
    Save storm, or battle cry,