New Zealand Verse/My Father
CLXI.
My Father.
He is old now,
And Time and Care have long ago
Covered his locks with winter’s snow,
And lined his brow.
And Time and Care have long ago
Covered his locks with winter’s snow,
And lined his brow.
His step is slow,
Oft in his walk he stands to rest,
With folded arms upon his breast,
And head bent low.
Oft in his walk he stands to rest,
With folded arms upon his breast,
And head bent low.
His eyes are dim;
This world is fading from his sight,
But flower, and tree, and sun, and light,
Are naught to him.
This world is fading from his sight,
But flower, and tree, and sun, and light,
Are naught to him.
The past is his,
And all day long his thoughts will roam,
And weave again in fancy’s loom
Old memories.
And all day long his thoughts will roam,
And weave again in fancy’s loom
Old memories.
At night I hear
His tottering footsteps cross the hall;
Slowly and solemnly they fall
Upon my ear.
His tottering footsteps cross the hall;
Slowly and solemnly they fall
Upon my ear.
Some night I know
That I shall list for them in vain,
That I shall never go again,
To kiss his brow.
That I shall list for them in vain,
That I shall never go again,
To kiss his brow.
Perchance e’en now
The Angel beckons him away.
And I, O God! would have him stay
With me below.
The Angel beckons him away.
And I, O God! would have him stay
With me below.
I cannot weep.
I watch him slipping from my side—
Gliding upon life’s ebbing tide
To dreamless sleep.
I watch him slipping from my side—
Gliding upon life’s ebbing tide
To dreamless sleep.
But tears unshed
Scorch all the fibres of my heart.
There will be none to soothe the smart
When he is dead.
Scorch all the fibres of my heart.
There will be none to soothe the smart
When he is dead.
O God! I cry,
Spare him to me! He is my all!
Or bid thine Angel speed to call
Me too, to die!
Spare him to me! He is my all!
Or bid thine Angel speed to call
Me too, to die!
Annie Murgatroyd