Dread task ! and now in vain he tries
To assuage that grief-— the old man cries :
" Nay, leave me here with God alone,
Till I can say, ' His will be done ! ' "
The dawn is cloudless, the summer-sun shines
Again on the grateful isle ;
They may leave their hay till the day declines.
To worship their God, the while.
And early they gather, with willing feet,
At their humble place of prayer ;
In simple attire, and with reverence meet.
The old and the young are there.
The service is read, and the preacher takes
The word that they wait to hear —
Hark ! whence is the threatening sound that breaks
From without on his startled ear ?