Classic Poem

Farewell to the Church of my fathers,
With thee I no longer can dwell,
Constrain'd by the Spirit to bid thee
A sad and a solemn farewell.
Yet many and dear recollections,
From which I can never get free,
And hearts that are sleeping beside thee,
Still bind me, old temple, to thee.

For oh! to my heart thou still bringest
The far away, old happy times,
The long summer days of my boyhood,
And Scotia's old ballads and rimes.
No doubt that the age has outgrown thee,
For faults of the spirit are thine,
And yet thou didst nourish affections
That surely had something divine.

Ah, many a simple-souled peasant
Grew great on thy terrible faith,
And, fearless 'mid flames or the torture,
Walked into the valley of death.
But tho' thou couldst teach man to suffer —
To suffer and even to die! —
Yet poor human nature had longings
And wants that thou couldst not supply.

And tho' thou hadst gleams of true grandeur,
And struggled to reach the divine,
The heart had a higher ideal,
A holier hunger, than thine.
Farewell to the Church of my fathers,
With thee I no longer can dwell,
Constrain'd by the Spirit to bid thee
A sad and a solemn farewell.