HY FATHER 
 
 TO WHICH IS ADDED, 
 
 17 
 
 EDINBURGH : 
 
 FUBi^HED BY JAMES CLARKE AND CO- 
 HIGH STREET. 
 
 Price One Penny. 
 
MY FATHER 
 
 WHO took me from my mother's arms. 
 And, smiling at her soft alarms, 
 
 Show'd me the world and nature's 
 charms ? 
 
 My Father. 
 
 Who made me feel and understand 
 
 The wonders of the sea and land, 
 
 And mark through all the Maker's hand? 
 
 My Father. 
 
3 
 
 Who climbM with me the mountain's 
 height, 
 
 And watch'd my look of dread delight, 
 While rose the glorious orb of light ! 
 
 My Father. 
 
 What made a barren rock so dear, 
 M My hoy, he had a country there," 
 And who then diont n precious tear ? 
 
 My Father* 
 
 ■ 
 
Who, from each flower and verdant stalk, 
 Gather'd a honey'd store of talk, 
 To fill the long delightful walk ? 
 
 M5? Father. 
 
 Not on an insect would he tread ; 
 Nor strike the .stinging nettle dead. 
 Who taught at once my heail and head ? 
 
 My Father, 
 
5 
 
 Who smilM at my supreme desire 
 To see the curling smoke aspire, 
 
 From Ithaca's domestic fire ? 
 
 My Father. 
 
 O teach me still thy Christian plan, 
 Thy practice wUfr thy precept ran, 
 Nor vet desert me now a man, 
 
 Mv Father. 
 
6 
 
 Who wrote upon that heart the Vm 
 Paideia graved on Virtue's shrine, 
 To make the human race divine ? 
 
 My Father. 
 
 Who fired my breast with Homer's flame, 
 And "taught the high heroic theme, 
 That nightly fiash'd upon my dream ? 
 
 Mv Father. 
 
 Upon the raft, amidst the foam, 
 
 Who with Ulysses saw me roam, 
 
 His head .still raised to look for home ? 
 
 My Fatker. 
 
7 
 
 Still let thy scholar's heart rejoice ; 
 With charms of thy angelic voice, 
 Still prompt the motive and the choice, 
 
 My Father. 
 
 Who took me In the fields to walk, 
 And listen'd to my infant talk, 
 Making me chains of thistle's stalk ? 
 
 My Father. 
 
 And when my kite I wish'd to try, 
 Who held the string to make it fly, 
 While pleasure sparkled in my eye ? 
 
 My Father, 
 
H 
 
 For yet remains a little space, 
 Till I shall meet thee face to face, 
 And not as now in vain embrace, 
 
 My Father 
 
 Should sickness overtake thy age, 
 My care shall every pain assuage, 
 And sooth thee from the sacred p^e, 
 
 My Fatker. 
 Who bade me never shut the door, 
 To shun the sorrows of the poor, 
 Or slight the woes my power could cure ? 
 
 My Father. 
 
MY MOTHER 
 
 When pain and sickness made me cry, 
 Who gazed upon my heavy eye, 
 Aad wept for fear that I should die ? 
 
 My Mother, 
 
10 
 
 Who fed me from her gentle breast 
 And hushed me in her arms to rest, 
 And on my cheek sweet kisses pressM ? 
 
 My Mother, 
 
 For God, who lives above the skies, 
 Would look with vengeance in his eyes, 
 If I should ever dare despise 
 
 31 y Mother, 
 
11 
 
 When sleep forsook my open eye, 
 Who was it sung sweet Hushaby. 
 And rock'd me that I should not cry ? 
 
 My Mother. 
 
12 
 
 Who ran to help me when I fell, 
 And would some pretty story tell, 
 Or kiss the place to make it well ? 
 
 My Mother, 
 
 Who dressM me out in clothes so gay, 
 And taught me pretty how to play, 
 And minded all I had to say ? 
 
 Mv Mother. 
 
4 
 
 13 
 
 Who made me love my books indeed ; 
 And who delighted heard me read 
 Those tales she could recite with speed ? 
 
 My Mother. 
 
14 
 
 When thou art feeble, old, and grey, 
 My healthy arm shall be thy stay, 
 And I will sooth thy pains away, 
 
 My Mother, 
 
 id I could speak to thee my mind, 
 mt solace from thy lips to find, 
 
 My Mather. 
 
I 15 
 
 And when I see thee hang thy head, 
 Twill be my turn to watch thy bid, 
 And tears of sweet affection shed, 
 
 My Mother. 
 
 For well I know thee void of guile, 
 When others frown'd, thy soothing smile 
 
 Would many a little woe beguile, 
 
 My Mother, 
 
 m 
 
 THE P»B« 
 
P ; — 
 
 MY FATHER, . 
 
 AND 
 
 Published by 
 
 JAMES CLARKE & CO. EDINBURGH : 
 
 Of whom may be had. 
 
 An extensive Assortment of Juvenile 
 Books, at various prices. 
 
 . ; .f ife'.' i;s v