From Greenland's icy mountains,From India's coral strand,Where Afric's sunny fountainsRoll down their golden sand.From many an ancient river,From many a palmy plain,They call us to deliverTheir land from error's chain.
Be patient, my friends; time rolls rapidly away; our longing has its end. The hour will strike, who knows how soon? when the maternal lap of everlasting Love shall be opened to us, and the full peace of God breathe around us from the palmy summits of Eden.
Beside the brook and on the umbered meadow, Where yellow fern-tufts fleck the faded ground, With folded lids beneath their palmy shadow The gentian nods in dewy slumbers bound.sarah helen whitman
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