 | Life and Literary Remains of L. E. L. |  |
THE FATHER'S LOVE.
'Tis not my home—he made it home
With earnest love and care;
How can it be my own dear home,
And he no longer there?
With earnest love and care;
How can it be my own dear home,
And he no longer there?
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I asked to meet my father's eyes,
But they were closed for me;
My father, would that I were laid
In the dark grave with thee.
But they were closed for me;
My father, would that I were laid
In the dark grave with thee.
Where shall I look for constant love,
To answer unto mine?
Others have many kindred hearts,
But I had only thine.
To answer unto mine?
Others have many kindred hearts,
But I had only thine.
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