A Father's Lament

How can you bid this heart be blithe,
When blithe this heart can never be ?
I've lost the jewel from my crown —
Look round our circle, and you'll see
That there is ane out o' the ring
Who never can forgotten be —
Ay, there's a blank at my right hand,
That ne'er can be made up to me !

'Tis said as water wears the rock,
That time wears out the deepest line ;
It may be true wi' hearts enow,
But never can apply to mine.

For I have learn'd to know and feel —
Though losses should forgotten be —
That still the blank at my right hand
Can never be made up to me !

I blame not Providence's sway,
For I have many joys beside,
And fain would I in grateful way
Enjoy the same, whatever betide.
A mortal thing should ne'er repine,
But stoop to the Supreme decree ;
Yet, oh ! the blank at my right hand
Can never be made up to me !