GIVE me thy blessing, father, ere I goFrom thy dear presence, and from those I love,And from this sheltering roof, beneath whichI have spent so many happy days;Where I have been caressed, and blest, and taught,By sweet parental care and tender love,The course of duty to the All-wise SourceFrom whence my being came, and unto whomThe heart must turn—when bruised and mangledHere—for balm, for succor, and a sure retreat,Wherein to rest its aching, throbbing pulse,When sorrow's pangs shall lacerate its strings.Oh, there are memories of this sacred home,Sweet, holy memories which can ne'er depart,While yet a sand remains within the glassOf life. Then, ere I go, dear father, bless thyChild, and ask of Him who heareth all, a giftOf meek humility, to guide my steps,And faith to keep alive the lamp of hope,And sympathy for other sorrowing hearts,And charity, the sweetest boon of all,And brightest gem within the Christian sphere.Ask God to give me these, and I will goResignedly and calmly from thy side,Relying on thy fervent, holy prayer,And in the strength which answeringHeaven shall give.
