162 
THE MORAL OF FLOWERS. 
Then to close round the fire and tell over light-hearted 
The dangers and fears which no longer annoy, 
With those from whose presence’t was grief to be parted. 
Oh! this, surely this is “ The Traveller’s Joy.” 
But is joy our sole feeling ? Shall nought be awarded, 
When we speak of the past with its pleasures and fears? 
No note of thanksgiving to Him who has guarded 
Our footsteps from falling, our eyelids from tears ? 
At noontide our path, and at midnight our pillow, 
His mercy protected. His watchfulness blest; 
While others were whelm’d in the dark rolling billow, 
He guided our bark to a haven of rest. 
Oh! then when we meet and tell over light-hearted 
The dangers and fears which no longer annoy. 
With those from whose presence’t was grief to be parted, 
Let gratitude blend with “ The Traveller’s Joy.” 
