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a remonstrance.
And though 'twould scarce—a boat so weak, The sin-weigh'd soul, sustain, A father's spirit cannot seek His only child in vain!
A REMONSTRANCE.
written at the catskill moutain house.
What, here! where the soul feels an angel's elation, Where the balm of the breeze is worth all the world's wealth!Oh ! profane not the place by so low a libation, While pure from the rock springs the fountain of health!
What, here! where the wood-bird its warble subduing, Keeps holy our Sabbath with music and love, And Earth, her wild blossoms forever renewing, Sends up, in their perfume, her praises above!
