THE CONSOLATION

    Though bleak² these woods, and damp the ground With fallen leaves so thickly strown, And cold the wind that wanders round With wild and melancholy³ moan；

    There IS a friendly roof, I know, Might shield me from the wintry blast； There is a fire, whose ruddy glow Will cheer me for my wanderings past.

    And so, though still, where'er I go, Cold stranger-glances meet my eye； Though, when my spirit sinks in woe⁴, Unheeded swells⁵ the unbidden sigh；

    Though solitude⁶, endured too long, Bids youthful joys too soon decay, Makes mirth a stranger to my tongue, And overclouds my noon of day；

    When kindly⁷ thoughts that would have way, Flow back discouraged to my breast； I know there is, though far away, A home where heart and soul may rest.

    Warm hands are there, that, clasped in mine, The warmer heart will not belie⁸； While mirth, and truth, and friendship shine In smiling lip and earnest eye.

    The ice that gathers round my heart May there be thawed⁹； and sweetly, then, The joys of youth, that now depart, Will come to cheer my soul again.

    Though far I roam, that thought shall be My hope, my comfort, everywhere； While such a home remains¹⁰ to me, My heart shall never know despair！