They meet, they love, they wed;
   And now life’s cares begin.
He toils for daily bread,
   But bread he scarce can win.
Soon comes a little child
   Their poverty to share;
Her eyes, so sweet and mild,
   See love, but see not care.
Yet care is in the home,
   The wolf is at the door;
Thence must the husband roam,
   Such sorrows have the poor!
They part with many fears,
   Though hope shines bright above
And smiling on their tears,
   The baby coos of love.
Across the stormy sea,
   Ten thousand miles away,
The lonely man must be
   Prepared for toil or fray;
Watchful both day and night,
   For many a savage foe
Is lurking out of sight,
   To aim a treach’rous blow.
At last in savage hands
   He finds himself a prey,
And through their pathless lands
   They lead him far away.
He sees no white man’s face
   While days and weeks roll on,
He hears no white man’s voice—
   One long, dull year is gone;
And still the months roll by,
   And no one comes to save;
Then must he live and die
   ’Mong savages a slave?
No! Who would prize mere breath
   If he may not be free?
Better the risk of death
   Than long captivity.
He takes the chance of flight—
   Escaping from his foes.
But where are those he loved,
   For whom he crossed the waves?
Have they forgetful proved,
   Or are they in their graves?
There’s One who knoweth all,
   And time the truth will tell;
Whatever may befall,
   God doeth all things well.
Commit to Him your care,
   And trust the mighty Mind
That ruleth everywhere
   The lives of all mankind.