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An Appeal For Ireland Post by :snuff30 Category :Poems Author :Sarah S. Mower Date :November 2011 Read :1086

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An Appeal For Ireland

"Cast thy bread upon the waters,
for thou shall find it after many days."--Ecel. xi; 1.

Hark! hear the cry of Erin's sons,
By plague and famine frantic;
The wail of wives and little ones
Comes o'er the broad Atlantic.

O, heed the bitter piercing cry,
That's pealing o'er the ocean;
To us, to us, for aid they fly,
As Israel fled to Goshen.

List! hear that sad and mournful sound,
It is the parent sighing;
Beside him, on the damp cold ground.
His darling ones are lying.

A nation sinking to the grave;
How thick death's shafts are flying!
The loved, the lovely, and the brave,
From want are daily dying.

They're calling to Columbia's sons,
And to her happy daughters;
Take of your bread, ye favor'd ones,
And cast it on the waters.

(The end)
Sarah S. Mower's poem: Appeal For Ireland

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The Minister At The Family Altar The Minister At The Family Altar

The Minister At The Family Altar
COMPOSED FOR THE REV. W. FOSS, OF LEEDS. The father, still in manhood's prime, Was bowed in humble prayer; His partner, fair as when a bride, Was kneeling by him there. Reclining on a sister's arm, The babe found sweet repose; While from the heart, in accents warm, The father's prayer arose. And, fair as rosebuds bathed in dew; By morning zephyrs fanned, A blooming group of loved ones,