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142

TO FATHER.

My father! when I saw thee last,
Thy noble, manly form,
Was unbent by the cares of time—
Unshattered by life's storm.
The raven hair around thy brow
Was scarcely tinged with gray—
While the bright lustre of thine eye
Denied old age's sway.
Oft in my dreams I see thy face,
As 'twas when last we met;
If we should never meet again,
Thy smile I'll ne'er forget.

143

My father, years have passed since then;
Aye, stern, heart-breaking years;
And we have each been made to feel
Life's sorrows, and life's tears.
Now, I am in my womanhood—
They say, life's glorious page;
And, father, I regret to think,
That you have reached old age.
Grieve not, grieve not, for broken buds,
They'll open in the sky;
In bower of celestial light,
They'll bloom, and never die.
Dear father, thou hast ever been
To me, thy orphan child,
A father and a mother too,
Kind, thoughtful, just and mild.

144

Then grant me, father, but this boon,
Then will thy child be blest—
Let me watch o'er thy latest years,
And lay thee down to rest.