My father! Oh! I cannot dwell
On hours when we shall meet again;
I only feel, I only know
That all my prayers for thee were vain.
"Come, brother, take a last farewell;
Soon, soon they'll bear him far away."
"No, sister, no, he is not there,
I parted with him yesterday.
"Our father is in Heaven now,
Forever free from care and pain;
And, if a half-formed wish could bring
His sainted spirit back again,
"The selfish wish I would not breathe;
'Twould cloud with woe that placid brow,
Round which a seraph seems to wreathe
A crown of glory even now.
"How deep the gloom that mantled there!
How sweetly, too, 'twas all withdrawn!
Thus, ever thus, night's darkest hour
Precedes the day's triumphant dawn.
"Oh! while he lingered, struggling still
With pain and anguish and despair,
The sting of death was felt indeed,
And then I wearied Heaven with prayer.
"But when the unfettered spirit fled
From earth and earthly cares away,
I joyed to think how blest would be
Its entrance on eternal day.
"I joyed to think that never more
That tranquil breast would throb with pain;
Hope pencilled, too, the sheltering port
Where parted spirits meet again.
"Oh! I would drain the bitter cup
To him in boundless mercy given,
A glorious Sabbath-day to win
Of never-ending rest in Heaven.
"Come, sister, let us follow him,
Though rugged was the path he trod;
'Twill lead us to the 'saints in light,'
'Twill lead us to our father's God."