Had never yet exceeded truth!
Upon whose guardian care had hung
The whole dependence of thy youth!

"Who, noble, dauntless, frank and mild,
Was, for his very goodness, fear'd;
Belov'd with fondness like a child,
And like a blessed saint rever'd!

"I have known friends--but who can feel
The kindness such a father knew?
I serv'd him still with tender zeal,
But knew not then how much was due!

"And did not Providence ordain
That we should soon be laid as low,
No heart could such a stroke sustain,--
No reason could survive the blow!

"After that fatal trial came,
The world no longer was the same.
I still had pleasures:--who could live
Without the healing aid they give?
But, as a plant surcharg'd with rain,
When radiant sunshine comes again,
Just wakes from a benumbing trance,
I caught a feverish, fitful glance.
The dove, that for a weary time
Had mourn'd the rigour of the clime,
And, with its head beneath its wing,