Anne Lynch Botta

“Blindfold I walk this life's bewildering maze;Up flinty steep, through frozen mountain pass,Through thornset barren and through deep morass:But strong in faith I tread the uneven ways,And bare my head unshrinking to the blast,Because my Father's arm is round me cast;And if the way seems rough, I only claspThe hand that leads me with a firmer grasp.”

“The planted seed consigned to common earth,Disdains to moulder with the baser clay;But rises up to meet the light of day,Spreads all its leaves, and flowers, and tendrils forth;And, bathed and ripened in the genial ray,Pours out its perfume on the wandering gales,Till in that fragrant breath its life exhales.”