 | Poems by Miss H. F. Gould |  |
193
THE FATHER.
I'm breaking down! I'm breaking down,
An aged, sapless tree!
My head but wears a snowy crown—
'T is winter time with me.
An aged, sapless tree!
My head but wears a snowy crown—
'T is winter time with me.
O, may the scions from my root,
That flourish green and high,
Be good, and yield a precious fruit
Before, like me, they die!
That flourish green and high,
Be good, and yield a precious fruit
Before, like me, they die!
The pruning-knife whene'er they feel
Beneath their owner's care,
Though keen, 't will only wound to heal,
To make them bloom and bear.
Beneath their owner's care,
Though keen, 't will only wound to heal,
To make them bloom and bear.
They now are young, and fair, and sound;
While I am in decay:
In peace I leave to them the ground;
I drop, and pass away.
While I am in decay:
In peace I leave to them the ground;
I drop, and pass away.
Yet, though my dust in earth be laid;
My life from earth withdrawn;
'T will be but as a fleeing shade
Of night, before the dawn!
My life from earth withdrawn;
'T will be but as a fleeing shade
Of night, before the dawn!
For I shall spring beyond the tomb
To new, immortal prime,
Where all is light, and life, and bloom;
And no more winter time!
To new, immortal prime,
Where all is light, and life, and bloom;
And no more winter time!
| Poems by Miss H. F. Gould | |