Dear Lord, to Thee my knee is bent.--
Give me content--
Full-pleasured with what comes to me,
What e'er it be:
An humble roof--a frugal board,
And simple hoard;
The wintry f*got piled beside
The chimney wide,
While the enwreathing flames up-sprout
And twine about
The brazen dogs that guard my hearth
And household worth:
Tinge with the ember's ruddy glow
The rafters low;
And let the sparks snap with delight,
As ringers might
That mark deft measures of some tune
The children croon:
Then, with good friends, the rarest few
Thou holdest true,
Ranged round about the blaze, to share
My comfort there,--
Give me to claim the service meet
That makes each seat
A place of honor, and each guest
Loved as the rest.