Page:Home; or, The unlost paradise (IA homeorunlostpara00palm).pdf/110

The evening table where the loved were wont
Nightly to gather; or at will to sit
Beneath the old familiar trees that hang
O'erarching by the door, as long ago,
And seem of all things least to have changed with years.
Ay more—'tis given to greet the oft return
Of children who, to filial duty true
And childhood's fresh remembrances, come back
To tread again the haunts for ever dear;
To hear grand-children's prattle and to watch
Their childish raptures as on grandsire's knee
They drink in, all attent, the well-told tale.
These are the tranquil pleasures left to age
When towards the sunset verges life's long day.
With these, deep in the trustful, loving soul
That 'mid life's turmoil walked by faith with God,
And, far above earth's ever shifting sands,
Builded on solid rock immortal hopes;
There come, as night draws nearer, glimpses oft,
And blest anticipations, of the realm