Page:Poems - Southey (1799) volume 1.djvu/30

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And her who at departing day
Weeps for her husband far away.
Oh give to him the flowing bowl,
Bid it renovate his soul;
Then shall sorrow sink to sleep,
And he who wept no more shall weep;
For his care-clouded brow shall clear,
And his glad eye shall sparkle thro' the tear,

  When the poor man heart-opprest
Betakes him to his evening rest,
And worn with labour thinks in sorrow
Of the labour of to-morrow;
When sadly musing on his lot
He hies him to his joyless cot,
And loathes to meet his children there,
The rivals for his scanty fare;
Oh give to him the flowing bows,
Bid it renovate his soul;
The generous juice with magic power
Shall cheat with happiness the hour,