Page:Poems By Chauncy Hare Townshend.djvu/86

 TIlE WHAVER'8 BO. Then, pale and spiritless at morn would rise, And bear new chiding for his redden'd eyes. � Thou,whom.he weets, moe wormly should'st have striven To draw an anfido to woe from heaven; That only balm, which eould relief impart, The silent, deep, religion of the hesxt: Thyself dldst feel its sweet, cousoliug power; O why not leave thy child that heav'nly dower ? Yet thou didst teach his infant knee to kneel, His tongue to ptray, but not his heart to feel; Nor where o cast, when sorrow's waves should roll, The sure and steadfast anchor of the soul. O hadst thou pointed to the cross, and there Taught him to tlx his hopes, and rest his every eare! 'Tis ever thus; all wish their offspring blest, For this they early rise, and late take rest; But, oh, how few th' immortal spirit feed With what will profit in the hour of need  And now, while, spent in drinking, day by day The fathers means verge swifter .to decay, (For vice grows more importunate each hour, The more you give, the more she will devonr) Still more tyrannical the tyrant grows, More loud his curses, more severe his blows, ......... Google

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