When I was your age

DR. SAMUEL GRIDLEY HOWE.

Thy voice comes down the rolling years Like ring of steel on steel; With it I hear the tramp of steeds, And the trumpet’s silver peal.

I see thee ride thy fearless way, With steadfast look intent, God’s servant, still by night and day, On his high errand bent.

Thy lance lay ever in the rest ’Gainst tyranny and wrong. Thy steed was swift, thine aim was sure, Thy sword was keen and strong.

But were the fainting to be raised, The sorrowing comforted,-- The warrior vanished, and men saw An angel stoop instead.

O soldier Father! dear I hold Thine honored name to-day; Thy high soul draws mine eyes above, And beacons me the way.

And when my heart beats quick to learn Some deed of high emprise, I almost see the answering flash That lightens from thine eyes.

I greet thee fair! I bless thee dear! And here, in token meet, I pluck these buds from memory’s wreath, And lay them at thy feet.

CONTENTS.