Stood the youth with tearful eyes
Fixed upon the dying man.
He would speak, but when he tries
His young soul within him dies
As he views that face so wan.
Speaks the father now at last,
"WILLIAM, listen to my tale.
I through dreadful crime have passed,
But while life is ebbing fast
Now to you I would unveil
"My base heart, if yet I may
In some measure crime atone.
It is thirty years this day
Since a Will I made away,
To gain riches not my own.
"Him I wronged is HUMBLEWORTH,
Long a neighbor near this house:
His my wealth by right of birth;
All I own upon this earth
Is my family—and disgrace.
"I would make amends to him,
But grim death now shakes his dart;
Breathing fails me, eyes grow dim,
Spectres 'fore my vision skim,
And with terrors fill my heart.
"List, my son, your's be the task,
When I'm past this earthly scene,
Pardon for my sin to ask,
My vile conduct to unmask,
And make known what I have been.
"But, my boy, in pity spare,
Spare your mother's feelings dear.
Warning take, from me, nor dare
Sport with sin; of that beware,
For great danger lurketh near.
"I more would say, but now again
Death's strong fetters bind my tongue."
Soon his struggles are in vain;
WILLIAM'S heart is wrung with pain,
And his nerves are all unstrung.
Startling groans break on his ear
Now that ill-spent life has fled.
WILLIAM sees his mother near
And attempts her heart to cheer,
As she sinks upon the bed.
Seems this stroke too hard to bear.
In the lack of Christian hope,
Her weak heart from grief and care
Droops too soon to dire despair;
With such foe she cannot cope.