The star that rose to cheer our humble life, And make a little heaven of our home, Shall rise again--yes, surely rise again To give us everlasting joy divine. A poet of my native land has said-- The life the good and virtuous lead on earth Is like the black-eyed maiden of the East, Who paints the lids to look more bright and fair. The eyes may smart and water, but withal She loves to please them that behold her face. E'en so, my Master, thine own life has been. Thy songs have pleased the world, thy thoughts divine Have purified, likewise ennobled man. And what are they, those songs and thoughts divine, But sad experience of thy life, dipt deep In thine own tears,…
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