THE ONLY BOY
Too much I worshiped him, perchance
Too much I drifted from Thy glance.
Thou art a jealous God, and Thou
Hast put Thy crown upon my brow.
I pass beneath Thy rod; I pray
To find salvation’s thorny way—
I care not boy what pangs beguiled,
So it but lead me to my child.
Ah, blessed thought to know that he
Is safe from sin and misery;
That, in the young May of his life,
He fell unsullied in the strife.
I treasure up his image fair,
I kiss his tress of shining hair,
Thrilling to hope, in heaven, that he
Will be “the first to welcome me.”
Within Thy sheltering arms, I place
My idol, glorified by grace;
And, with the dear ones left, my eyes
Gaze through the gates of Paradise.
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