Then, while he wipes from his dim eye a tear,
They fill the old man’s pack with generous food,
Proffer the goblet full to his parched lips,
And play at “hide and seek” around his chair.
The heart of power may coldly beat when they
Who fought for freedom in her darkest hour,
In age and penury, appear to claim
The boon a monarch never yet refused;
But by the hearth-stones of his native land,
Where liberal thoughts and generous feelings dwell,