My Father’s Son

I would that I were young as you,
Yet with my years could see.
In youth I’d hear applause to be
for nothing much ado.

Oh! Though this body wax and wane,
All time in God is one:
So He creates us young again
In forms we hold in loan.

Then fade this carcass long away -
I fear not such a day -
In you, my son, my life remain
Till you be born again.

Against that time, friend, persevere!
Of dying, never fear.
When you perceive death drawing near
Hold not this earth too dear.

When I consider all the time I spend
Upon the battlefield of common strife,
Unhappy for the lack of time to rend
From history the mysteries of life;
Sad images appear within my sight,
Of labor crippled men, whom time forgot,
Whose god afforded them one simple right:
To hope their children reap a greater lot.
That time, which I esteem as mine, I know
To be the debt I owe these crippled men.
This loan they gave to me, I give to you,
For god gives nothing, but doth only lend.
	Because you live to read this verse today,
	I, all myself, had gladly passed away.