The Old Man's Complaint
On Eternity's confines I stand,
And look back on the paths I have trod:
I pant for the summoning hand,
That shall call me away to my God!
My temples are sprinkled with snow;
The sands of existence decline;
The dwelling is cheerless and low,
The dwelling that soon must be mine.
No longer beside me are found
The forms that of old were so dear;
No longer the voices resound,
That once were so sweet to mine ear.
The wife of my bosom is lost;
Long, long, has she sunk into sleep:
My boy on the ocean was toss'd,
He rests in the caves of the deep.
A villain my daughter betray'd;
Her home and her father she fled:
But Heav'n has in justice repaid
The tears he has caus'd me to shed.
Her peace and her honor he stole;
Abandon'd, despairing, she died:
Remorse quickly seiz'd on his soul,
And he rests in the grave by her side.
Oh! where are the friends of my youth,
The lovely, the good, and the brave?
All flown to the mansions of Truth!
All pass'd through the gates of the grave!
On parents, and children, and friends,
Have mortality's arrows been driv'n;
But swiftly the darkness descends,
And my spirit shall join them in Heav'n!