Poems (Taggart)/To an Aged Friend of my Father

by Cynthia Taggart

TO AN AGED FRIEND OF MY FATHER.

With youthful diffidence and dubious thought,
The suffering child of thy fraternal friend
Would, though by genius and by art untaught,
Her thanks with reverence and affection blend;

Would breathe to thee, though no soft music flow,
The simple tribute of a grateful heart:
The mind, o'erwhelmed with long prevailing woe,
No pleasing strains harmonious can impart.

But gratitude awakes within the breast
Each tender cord, responsive to the tone
Of kindest pity oft by thee expressed,
When Hope's blest consolation long had flown.

The balm that Sympathy balsamic yields,
From thee can soothe, when stern afflictions rend,—
With peaceful solace the torn bosom heal,
And pensive pleasure's milder influence lend.

Cordial compassion, with its pious ray,
And friendship pure within thy breast are shrined:
And worth, unfading as perennial day.
With all the higher virtues is combined.

Without presumption bold, expansive, clear,
Thine intellectual powers bright stores display;
And sweet benignity with softened grace
O'er the rich treasure sheds its spotless ray.

Enabling wisdom marks thy reverend brow,
And gravity bespeaks that serious thought
Dwells with serene composure in thy breast,
With heavenly hope and resignation fraught.

Long may'st thou live, and virtue's halcyon beams
Gild thy last moments, and may peace divine
Waft thy blest spirit to its native realm,
Where bliss eternal shall be ever thine.