Лидия Сигурни (Lydia Huntley Sigourney)

Mrs. Payne

Oh true and faithful! Twice ten earnest years
Of mission-toil in Afric's sultry clime
Attest thy patience in thy Master's cause,
Thy self-denial and humility.

Now, neath the shadow of the princely palm,
And where Liberia's church-crown'd summits rise,
Are sighs from sable bosoms, swelling deep
With gratitude for all thy hallow'd care.

--The Prelate, unto whom thy heart of hearts
Was link'd so tenderly,--who found in thee
Solace for exile from his native shore,
Laments thy loss, as the lone hours go by.
He mourns thee deepest, for he knew thee best,
Thy purity, thy sublimated search
For added holiness. With angel hand
Press thou thy pattern on us,--we who dwell
Amid the fullness of the bread from Heaven,
Forgetful of our heathen brother's need.
Now thou dost sweetly sleep, where pain and woe
Follow thee not. Their trial-time is o'er,
Their discipline perfected. For thy will
Was subjugated to the Will Divine,
And through a dear Redeemer's strength, thy soul
Hath won the victory.

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