Miss Sanders

Retiring mists forsake the mountain’s height
Again appears the orb of heav’nly light
Majestic sun! I hail thy primal ray
In praise of Him who gives another day.
Again the meadows healthful breeze I greet,
Or search begemm’d with dew the meadow sweet,
Enjoy the hour when wrapt in deep repose
Mankind forgets their real or fancied woes.
Yet, breaks forth morn to ev’ry eye thus clear?
And are there not some hearts it cannot cheer?
The widow doom’d in poverty to weep — 
Laments the fate of innocence asleep;
It wakes with smiles — the tear that dews its cheek
Paints anguish greater than the heart can speak.
To her returning morn no transport knows;
Her husband lost, and aggravated woes
Press heavy on affection’s tender breast
That rob the day of joy, and night of rest.
The captive o’er its walls its progress eyes,
And at th’ obstructed sunbeam mournful sighs,
The mind associates many a fond idea
That sun perhaps in distant climes may cheer,
T’abode of all that claims a father’s tear
The sufferer from his bed of anguish sees,
The morning break upon the woodland trees.
Disease flows rapid thro’ each fever’d vein
The prospect charms no more — for all is pain.
Shall mem’ry faithful to the past review,
The time I’ve mark’d, when wet with early dew
His feet have press’d the wild thyme scented glade
To seek the violet in its deepest shade
He roams no more — while I from yonder thorn
List to the thrush that carols in the morn:
With mind insensible awhile to care
Note the larks progress thro’ the fields of air,
For health is mine, and nature’s charms increase
When the heart whispers all within is peace.
Yet have I more deserv’d the meed of health
Than death’s allotted victim son of wealth
Or mother weeping for her infant born
To struggle with the world’s unfeeling scorn
Or wretched captive shut from lighty air
Whom sad reflection tortures to despair.
Ah! no upbraiding conscience seems to say
“Thy sin no less — frail mortal thou as they
Thou pow’r supreme who can’t all good bestow
Make me reflect to whom my bliss I owe!
Inspire with gratitude my early pray’r;
For ev’ry blessing of thy daily care,
And as the tents of morn adorn the skies
Let my first thoughts to Thee my God arise.