To sit watching amid the night air,
And fancy his father asleep.
'Yet, dejected, and sadly forlorn,
I dar'd in my heart to repine,—
To lament that I ever was born,
Though such worth and affection were mine.
'Alas! I was destin'd to know,
However intense my despair,
I still was reserv'd for a blow,
More painful and cruel to bear.