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 But not alone thou bear'st it. There is yet Another holy name. Thou, Edward, art A Father!—name like God's! a changeless name. Thy manly soul, warmed with paternal love, Calm, deep, and steady as a river's tide, By this new life shall feel its own enlarged, More joyous made and richer. Thou shalt find In this, thy son, what seems another self; Another centre, round which may revolve Thy best affections and thy busy thought. E'en while his infant prattle wakes the smile Of fatherly delight, within thy breast Grave questionings shall rise, with hopes and fears. "How with thee shall it fare, unconscious child— How wilt thou bear thyself, upon life's field Where foe meets foe and wile encounters wile; Where hapless thousands fall, or, wounded sore, Survive but wrecks, unfit for noble tasks? What destinies are thine? Wait there for thee The shouts of triumph? or the pang and shame Of final, sad defeat?" So wilt thou ask;