The Father's Lament How can you bid this heart be blithe, When blithe this heart can never be? I've lost the jewel from my crown - Look round our circle, and you'll see That there is ane out o' the ring Who never can forgotten be - Ay, there's a blank at my right hand, That ne'er can be made up to me! 'Tis said, as water wears the rock, That time wears out the deepest line; It may be true wi' hearts enow, But never can apply to mine. For I have learn'd to know and feel - Though losses should forgotten be - That still the blank at my right hand Can never be made up to me! I blame not Providence's sway, For I have many joys beside; And fain would I in grateful way Enjoy the same, whate'er betide. A mortal thing should ne'er repine, But stoop to supreme decree; Yet oh! the blank at my right hand Can never be made up to me. |
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