And am I left to unavailing woe?
When fortune’s storms assail this weary head,
Where cares long since have shed untimely snow,
Ah, now, for comfort whither shall I go?
No more thy soothing voice my anguish cheers,
Thy placid eyes with smiles no longer glow,
My hopes to cherish and allay my fears.
‘Tis meet that I should mourn, flow forth afresh my tears.’
Gregory wrote little upon religious subjects, except some chapters in the Comparative View and in the Father’s Legacy, but he spoke often of the things which pertain to the Life Eternal. To him they were as really present as the circumstances of every day.
His mind was deeply religious, but it was of that sort that lives more by meditation than church-going. Though he was a Presbyterian himself, he had his younger children brought up as Episcopalians, wishing them in everything to be likened as much as possible to their mother.