Classic Poem

My father! when I saw thee last,
Thy noble, manly form,
Was unbent by the cares of time —
Unshattered by life's storm.

The raven hair around thy brow
Was scarcely tinged with gray —
While the bright lustre of thine eye
Denied old age's sway.

Oft in my dreams I see thy face,
As 'twas when last we met;
If we should never meet again,
Thy smile I'll ne'er forget.

My father, years have passed since then;
Aye, stern, heart-breaking years;
And we have each been made to feel
Life's sorrows, and life's tears.

Now, I am in my womanhood —
They say, life's glorious page;
And, father, I regret to think,
That you have reached old age.

Grieve not, grieve not, for broken buds,
They'll open in the sky;
In bower of celestial light,
They'll bloom, and never die.

Dear father, thou hast ever been
To me, thy orphan child,
A father and a mother too,
Kind, thoughtful, just and mild.

Then grant me, father, but this boon,
Then will thy child be blest —
Let me watch o'er thy latest years,
And lay thee down to rest.