And with it breathed a voice of care
As from the lowly sod,
"My son—my only one— beware!
Nor sin against thy God."
Ye think, perchance, that age hath stole
My kindly warmth away,
And dimm'd the tablet of the soul;—
Yet when with lordly sway,
This brow the plumed helm display'd
That guides the warrior throng;
Or beauty's thrilling fingers stray'd
These manly locks among,
That hallow'd touch was ne'er forgot!—
And now, though Time hath set
His frosty seal upon my lot,
These temples feel it yet.
And if I e'er in heaven appear,
A mother's holy prayer,
A mother's hand, and gentle tear.
That pointed to a Saviour dear,
Have led the wanderer there.
DAVID AND JONATHAN.
Thou, who dost teach the human heart to glow
At other's joys, or melt in other's wo,
Thou, holy Friendship, whose benignant power,
Disarms of grief the temporary hour,
