For me the living waters flowed along.
Thy hand had set my feet upon a rock,
That Rock stands fast, why then this loss and harm?
I cannot find the footsteps of the flock,
I cannot feel the Well-Beloved's arm.
They hold me in derision, for they say,
Where is the God in whom you seemed to trust!
Righteous art Thou O Lord! and if I may
But find Thee I will lay me in the dust.
Saying, awake, arise my God, to me
Turn in Thy love the mercy of Thy face;
Then shall the day break, and the shadows flee,
And I will sing of Thy sufficient grace.
ERIN, MAVOURNEEN.
A Prize Poem.
I know Canada is fair to see, and pleasant; it is well
On the banks of its broad river 'neath the maple trees to dwell;
But the heart is very wilful, and in sorrow or in mirth,
Mine will turn with sore love-longing to the land that gave me birth;
And I wish that, oh but once again! my longing eyes might see
The green island that lies smiling on the bosom of the sea;
That is fed with heaven's dew and the fatness of the earth,
Fanned by wild Atlantic breezes that sweep over it in mirth.
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