One moment in the glow of kindred hearts 

 The lordly mansion rang, the next they lay 

 Crush'd neath its ruins. 

  He,—the childless sire, 

 Last of his race, and lonely as the pine 

 That crisps and blackens 'neath the lightning shaft 

 Upon the cliff, with such a rushing tide 

 The mountain billows of his misery came, 

 Drove they not Reason from her beacon-hold? 

 Swept they not his strong trust in Heaven away? 

 List,—list,—the sufferer speaks. 

 "The Lord who gave 

 Hath taken away,—and blessed be His name." 

 Oh Patriarch!—teach us, mid this changeful life 

 Not to mistake the ownership of joys 

 Entrusted to us for a little while, 

 But when the Great Dispenser shall reclaim 

 His loans, to render them with praises back, 

 As best befits the indebted. 

 Should a tear 

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