MY Father's hope! my childhood's dream! The promise from on high! Long waited for! its glories beam Now when my death is nigh. My death is come, but not decay; Nor eye nor mind is dim; The keenness of youth's vigorous day Thrills in each nerve and limb. Blest scene! thrice welcome after toil -- If no deceit I view; O might my lips but press the soil, And prove the vision true! Its glorious heights, its wealthy plains, Its many-tinted groves, They call! but He my steps restrains Who chastens whom He loves. Ah! now they melt...they are but shades... I die! -- yet is no rest, O Lord! in store, since Canaan fades But seen, and not possest? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FIGHTING RACE [FEBRUARY 16, 1898] by JOSEPH IGNATIUS CONSTANTINE CLARKE GATHERING SONG OF DONALD [OR, DONUI DHU] THE BLACK by WALTER SCOTT BETROTHED ANEW by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN OF A FAIR LADY PLAYING WITH A SNAKE by EDMUND WALLER |