Raim. Father! my soul yet kindles at the thought
Of nobler lessons, in my boyhood learn’d,
Ev’n from thy voice. The high remembrances
Of other days are stirring in the heart
Where thou didst plant them; and they speak of men
Who needed no vain sophistry to gild
Acts that would bear heaven’s light—and such be mine!
O father! is it yet too late to draw
The praise and blessing of all valiant hearts
On our most righteous cause?