Page:Songs of the Affections.pdf/115

Rh

That yet my gushing soul is fill'd    With lays she loved to sing. Her soft, deep eyes look through my dreams, Tender and sadly sweet;— Tell her my heart within me burns Once more that gaze to meet!

And tell our white-hair'd father, That in the paths he trode, The child he loved, the last on earth, Yet walks and worships God. Say, that his last fond blessing yet Rests on my soul like dew, And by its hallowing might I trust Once more his face to view.

And tell our gentle mother, That on her grave I pour The sorrows of my spirit forth, As on her breast of yore.