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42
poems.
THE APPEAL OF RUTH.
"Nay, turn my footsteps not away!
Faithful and fond, with thee I stay.
My heart,—oh! can it ever be
Divided from thy love and thee?

Pure as the early beam of light,
Which dissipates the shades of night,
That love shall be the holiest spell,
That ever in my heart can dwell.

That spell forbids me e'er to go
From thee, my dearest one below.
It binds its power around my heart;—
Gently forbids me to depart.

My sister,—let her footsteps roam
Back to her childhood's cherished home.
But what is childhood's home to me?
My lost one, there, I may not see.

True to that one, in life so dear,
Here will I dwell thine age to cheer.
Thou wert his mother, true and kind;
Love's holy chain our hearts shall bind.

My mother! that endearing name,
A daughter's heart would fondly claim,