The Stonecroft

Dauntless in drouth and dearth,
Its pure, bright bloom is given
Not by the damps of earth,
But by the dews of heaven.

O soul shut in with pain,—
By want and woe oppressed,
Look up,—take heart again;
In God’s sure keeping rest.

The bounty of thy birth
Remains, whate’er be given;
Denied the damps of earth,
Thine, still, the dews of heaven!