IV.

What years have passed of sorrow, that hour and this between!

What moments of enjoyment in that interval I’ve seen!

I wept that I had measured the half of being’s track;

I smiled that worlds were poor to bribe the weary pilgrim back.

I sighed that in the journey where blessings are so few

For even the most favored, I but scanty portion knew;

And chiefly in the season of confidence and pride,

My youth was forced the dangerous way, without my earthly guide.

Where is my sainted father, who took me in his arms,

And held me to the minister, and kissed away alarms?

I feel his presence near me! he blesses me once more!

Ay, where he gave me up to God, just forty years before!