| Share page | Visit Us On FB |
|
312 |
FOREST MELODIES. |
||
|
|
|||
|
And heard thee say, " My child, my child, On thee a father hath not smiled! A father's kiss thou shalt not know,
My dearest, sweetest one— Ah! who shall guide thy steps below,
My son, my son!"
Thy sorrowing grief how wild and deep, As bitterly I saw thee weep; And yet, methinks, from all thy grief Thou wouldst have scorn'd to seek relief. If thou hadst felt in that dark hour
The fearful thought arise, That cruel death possess'd the power
To break those ties.
The grave hath never yet confined The thinking, loving, deathless mind ! The casket soon in dust may lie, But can our sweet affections die ? Let no such thought its darkness throw
Around thy heart oppress'd— It should not cause one pang of woe
In thy sad breast.
O! while thou mourn'st the loved and blest, Longing to find his place of rest; Remember thine affections pure Shall ever, evermore endure ! |
|||