Nugae Modernae Morning thoughts, and midnight musings: consisting of casual reflections, egotisms, &c. In prose and verse. By Thomas Park |
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WRITTEN IN MY “COMPANION TO THE ALTAR.” |
 | Nugae Modernae |  |
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WRITTEN IN MY “COMPANION TO THE ALTAR.”
A few sad hours before the shades of deathHad veil'd in mortal sleep a father's eyes;
Ere yet the voice of hope resign'd its breath,
Ere the pure spirit fled to kindred skies,
This book was given,—in this its humble guise
Pass'd from a dying parent to his son,
As the best gift affection could devise,
Or filial duty could from love have won.
And shall he slight this heritable trust,
A trust bequeath'd at such an awful hour?
No: let him guard it with a mind more just,
And treasure it as earth's immortal dower,
Addressing oft to Heav'n his ardent prayer,
That he may thank the giver for it there.
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