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Oh! shall no more my listening ear
Catch that celestial voice;
No more thy heavenly converse hear,
That bade my soul rejoice!

Those words of kind, parental care,
Which soothed my bed of pain;
That look of sympathy, oh! ne'er
Shall I behold again!

Where shall thy suffering child repair,
To seek protection now?
Since Death's cold hand, so often near,
Has touched thine honored brow.

Where shall this helpless, writhing form
A kind supporter find?
And where, oh! where, midst sorrow's storm,
Shall rest this struggling mind?

Who will, like thee, direct the prayer
With strong desire to heaven;
And grace unto thy children bear,
To fervent pleadings given?

O blessed parent, guide, and friend!
Where shall my soul repose?
Our sky is dark; what ills attend!
The world no succour shows.