“Since then, fearful storms have darkened the sky,
And tempests disturbed the main,
And the sprightly glance of his loving eye
I ne’er may behold again!
“He never has looked on thy cherub form,
Or seen thy soft curling hair;
Or watched the quick smile, on thy rosy cheek,
Like a bright wave rippling there.
“To place thee, with joy, in thy father’s arms,
How my ardent soul doth yearn;