Classic Poem

Far from the dear delights
Of friends and home,
Summoned by life's high call,
Pilgrims, we roam;
Waifs on the world's highway,
Cheerful in hope, we stay;
God make our darkness, day,
Our winter, bloom.

Of scenes and seasons past,
Fond memory tells,
Sweet as the lulling sounds
Of vesper bells;
But more than pleasures gone,
Are deeds of duty done,
And life's grand conquest won,—
Draughts from deep wells.

They gather, far away,
The loved, the fair,
To keep this festal day
With praise and prayer
We know they love us still;
God save them all from ill,
Their ardent prayers fulfil,—
The loved ones, there.

We trust His generous arm
Through all life's fever;
God be our Staff and Friend,
Strong to deliver;
Then, 'neath heaven's gorgeous dome,
No more like drifting foam,
The households, all at home,
Shall feast forever.