Death darkens his eyes, and unplumes his wings,
Yet the sweetest song is the last he sings.
Live so, my love, that when death shall come,
Swan-like, and sweet, it may waft thce home."
CHILDREN PROMISING THEIR GRANDFATHER THEY WILL BE GOOD.
Though I am now in younger days,
Nor can tell what shall befall me,
I'll prepare for every place