THE FILIAL VOW ___ WHY heaves my Mother oft the deep-drawn sigh? Why starts the big tear
glist’ning in her eye? Why oft retire to hide her
bursting grief? Why seeks she not, nor seems to
wish relief? ’Tis for my Father mould’ring with the dead, My Brother in bold manhood lowly laid, And for the pains which age is doom’d to bear, She heaves the deep-drawn sigh and drops the secret tear.
Yes, partly these her gloomy thoughts employ, But mostly this o’erclouds her every joy, She grieves to think she may be
burthensome, Now feeble, old and
tott’ring to the tomb. O hear
my Heaven! and record my Vow, Its non-performance let thy
wrath pursue! I swear--Of
what thy providence may give, My Mother shall her due
maintenance have. ’Twas hers, to guide me through
life’s early day, To point out virtue’s paths and
lead the way, Now, while her pow’rs in frigid
languour sleep, ’Tis mine, to hand her, down
life’s rugged steep: With all her little weaknesses
to bear, Attentive, kind, to soothe her
every care; ’Tis nature bids, and truest pleasure flows, From lessening an aged
Parent’s woes. |