Amidst the rage of civil strife,
The orphan's cries, the widow's tears,
This day my rising dawn of life
Has measured five revolving years.
Unconscious of the howling storm,
No signs of shipwreck'd peace I see;
For what, with all its bustling swarm,
What is the noisy world to me?
My needle and my book employ
The busy moments of my day;
And, for the rest, with harmless joy,
I pass them in a round of play!
And if, ere long, my vacant heart
Is to be fill'd with Care and Pain,
Still I shall bravely bear my part
While Truth and Innocence remain.
Jonathan Odell (1737 - 1818) Canada
Subscripted "by her Father"; the storms he writes of are the American revolution (Odell sided with the British king)
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