Welcome

We are many when we all are met
     Within our humble door,
We are many Sister Gertrude
     But we’ve room enough for more
The world’s wealth, the world’s fame,
     What though we have them not —
We’ve what they could not give to us —
     Contentment with our lot.

The riches of the Rich-man
     Are dearly bought with cares
And the quiet of a quiet soul
     Is a better wealth than theirs
And the Holy One’s approval
     Is a man’s enduing fame
Than ?? on his icy throne,
     The proudest Monarch’s name;
If these be ours we’ll ask not
     If others may have more
Of the bauble-wealth which perisheth,
The world’s deceitful store.

Our hands are rough with honest toil,
     Our hills are rough with rocks,
Strong to withstand the arm of wrong,
     And the driving tempest’s shocks;
But there’s that within our bosom,
     Of a somewhat gentler mould,
Where the altar of Affection turns
     With a piece which grows not cold.

The studied grace, the hollow word,
     The polished lies of art,
The frozen smile which kindles not
     With the sunshine of the heart,—
And all the tinsel trumpery
     Of Fashion’s gilded train,
Who seeks to find such follies here
     May seek the ?? in vain.
But for thee, who would’st have loving hearts
     And spirits warm & true
Here’s a welcome sister from our band
     And a hearty welcome too!