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a mother's prayer in illness.
Summer love to fortune clings,
From the wreck it saileth,
Like the bee, that spreads its wings
When the honey faileth.
From the wreck it saileth,
Like the bee, that spreads its wings
When the honey faileth.
Rich the soil where weeds appear;—
Let their false bloom perish!
Flowers there are, more rare and dear,
That you still may cherish.
Let their false bloom perish!
Flowers there are, more rare and dear,
That you still may cherish.
Flowers of feeling, pure and warm,
Hearts that cannot wither,
These for thee shall bide the storm,
As the sunny weather.
Hearts that cannot wither,
These for thee shall bide the storm,
As the sunny weather.
