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When I forget to think of thee, dear father! And, when I think of thee, thy words of kindness, And words of counsel too, shall be remember'd.

Sweet child! stand back and let me look upon thee. Ay; so she look'd. O! it is sweet in thee To look so like thy mother, when mine eyes Must take their last impression, as a treasure Thy varying face was wont to wear, yet never, But in some sad or pensive mood, assumed The likeness of that countenance;—to me Thy loveliest look; though, to all other eyes, Thy mother's beauty never equall'd thine.

I still remember her: the sweetest face That e'er I look'd upon. I oft recall it, And strive to trace the features more distinctly.

Be good as she was; and when I am gone, Never again let myst'ry and concealment, Tempting the weakness of thy husband's nature, Which but for this were noble, break the peace And harmony of marriage.—For this oath—