Lynchburg Virginian

The Widow's Daughter
At her Daughter's Bridal.
BY MRS. LEDIA H. SIGOURNEY.

Deal gently thou, whose hand hath won
The young bird from the nest away,
Where careless 'neath a vernal sun
She gaily caroll'd day by day-

The haunt is lone-the heart must grieve,
From whence her timid wing doth soar,
The pensive list of hush of eve,
Yet hear her gushing song no more.

Peal gently with ber thou art dear.
Beyond what vestal lips have told,
And like a lamb from fountains clear.
She turns confiding to the fold;

She round thy sweet domestic bower,
The wreaths of changeless love shall twine,
Watch for thy step at vesper hour.
And blend her holiest prayer with thine.

Deal gently thou, where, far away.
'Mid stranger scenes her feet shall rove.
Nor let thy tender cares decay.
The soul of woman lives in love-

And shouldst thou, wondering, mark a tear
Unconscious from her eyelid track,
Be pitiful, and soothe the fear
That man's strong heart can ne'er partake.

A mother yields her gem to thee,
On thy true breast to sparkle more-
She places 'neath thy household tree
The idol of her fondest care,

And by thy trust to be forgiven,
When judgment wakes in terror wild.
By all the treasur'd hope of heaven,
Deal gently with the Widow's child.