Think on thy father in the vale of years, Think on thy aged mother, who with vows Incessant prays the Gods to send thee back Safe to thy native land: pity thy son, Without a father in his tender youth To form his mind, left to the unfriendly hands Of those who love him not: Alas! what woes Wilt thou bequeath to me and to thy child! I have no hope, no stay but thee alone. Thy hand destroyed my country, and my mother, Death snatched my father to the realms below; Deprived of thee what country will receive me, Or where shall I subsist? Thou art my all, My only safe-guard: do not, do not leave me! Nought so becomes a man as gratitude For goods received, and noble deeds are still The offspring of benevolence, whilst he With whom remembrance dies of blessings past Is vile and worthless. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE WAKING YEAR by EMILY DICKINSON FESTOONS OF FISHES by ALFRED FRANCIS KREYMBORG THE BLOOD HORSE by BRYAN WALLER PROCTER MUTABILITY (2) by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY THE VOYAGE OF MAELDUNE by ALFRED TENNYSON MARGARET'S SONG by LASCELLES ABERCROMBIE |