Classic Poem

Father, my earthly father, stay, oh stay!
I know thou wert a man as others be;
Bore were thy feet upon the World's cold clay,
And thou didst stumble oft, and on thy knee
Knelt little; but thy gentle heart gleamed free
In cloud and shadow, giving its best cheer;
Thou had'st an open hand, and laugh'd for glee
When happy men or creatures dumb played near.
But in thy latter years God's scourge was sore
Upon thee—weary were thy wrongs and dire,—
Yet blessings on thee—until all was o'er,
Cheery thou wert beside a cheerless fire—
Till one red dawn the mark was on the door,
And thou wert dead to all the world's desire.