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My Father was a good and pious man,
To lisp, he made me kneel beside my bed,
The suns of twenty summers danced along,—
And cottage after cottage owned its sway.
He loved his old hereditary nook,
And ill could I the thought of such sad parting brook.
But, when he had refused the proffered gold,
To cruel injuries he became a prey,
Sore traversed in whate'er he bought and sold:
They dealt most hardly with him, and he tried
We sought a home where we uninjured might abide.
It was in truth a lamentable hour,
When, from the last hill-top, my Sire surveyed,
There was a Youth, whom I had loved so long,
'Mid the green mountains many and many a song
We seemed still more and more to prize each other; We talked of marriage and our marriage day;
And I in truth did love him like a brother;
For never could I hope to meet with such another.
Two years were pass'd, since to a distant Town
What tears of bitter grief till then unknown!
And in a quiet home once more my
We lived in peace and comfort; and were blest
And often, viewing their sweet smiles, I sighed,.