POEMS.
41
TEARS OF BITTERNESS.
A father's tears were falling fast
On a young though faded brow;
They were falling bitterly, for hope
Had passed for ever now.
On a young though faded brow;
They were falling bitterly, for hope
Had passed for ever now.
Yet the 'reft parent bent the knee,
With prayers for mercy still,
Mingled with murmurs, that his child
Bent to a holier will.
With prayers for mercy still,
Mingled with murmurs, that his child
Bent to a holier will.
But the hand of Death was on it,
And the fading breath was hushed;
And the mourner of the sainted one
Lay, by that last blow, crushed.
And the fading breath was hushed;
And the mourner of the sainted one
Lay, by that last blow, crushed.
He had so twined within his soul
That frail and withered flow'r,
It seemed he could not tear it thence,
And live through that dark hour.
That frail and withered flow'r,
It seemed he could not tear it thence,
And live through that dark hour.
And truly was the angel-boy
Meet shrine for parent's love;
He had had early visions
Of that happier realm above.
Meet shrine for parent's love;
He had had early visions
Of that happier realm above.
