MY father! when I saw thee last,
Thy noble, manly form,
Was unbent by the cares of time--
Unshattered by life's storm.
The raven hair around thy brow
Was scarcely tinged with gray--
While the bright lustre of thine eye
Denied old age's away.
Oft in my dreams I see thy face,
As 'twas when last we met;
If we should never meet again,
Thy smile I'll ne'er forget.
My father, years have passed since then;
Aye, stern, heart-breaking years;
And we have each been made to feel
Life's sorrows, and life's tears.
Now, I am in my womanhood--
They say, life's glorious page;
And, father, I regret to think,
That you have reached old age.
Grieve not, grieve not, for broken buds,
They'll open in the sky;
In bower of celestial light,
They'll bloom, and never die.
Dear father, thou hast ever been
To me, thy orphan child,
A father and a mother too,
Kind, thoughtful, just and mild.
Then grant me, father, but this boon,
Then will thy child be blest--
Let me watch o'er thy latest years,
And lay thee down to rest.