Page:Poems on miscellaneous subjects (IA poemsonmiscellan00harp).pdf/19

 stood beside his dying child,
 * With a dim and bloodshot eye;

They'd won him from the haunts of vice
 * To see his first-born die.

He came with a slow and staggering tread,
 * A vague, unmeaning stare,

And, reeling, clasped the clammy hand,
 * So deathly pale and fair.

In a dark and gloomy chamber,
 * Life ebbing fast away,

On a coarse and wretched pallet, The dying sufferer lay: A smile of recognition
 * Lit up the glazing eye ;

"I'm very glad," it seemed to say,
 * "You've come to see me die."

That smile reached to his callous heart,
 * Its sealed fountains stirred;

He tried to speak, but on his lips
 * Faltered and died each word.

And burning tears like rain
 * Poured down his bloated face.

Where guilt, remorse and shame
 * Had scathed, and left their trace.