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 54. The Death of Moses  MY Father's hope! my childhood's dream!  The promise from on high! Long waited for! its glories beam  Now when my death is nigh.  My death is come, but not decay;  Nor eye nor mind is dim; The keenness of youth's vigorous day  Thrills in each nerve and limb.  Blest scene! thrice welcome after toil  If no deceit I view; O might my lips but press the soil,  And prove the vision true!  Its glorious heights, its wealthy plains,  Its many-tinted groves, They call! but He my steps restrains  Who chastens whom He loves.  Ah! now they melt ... they are but shades ...  I die! yet is no rest, O Lord! in store, since Canaan fades  But seen, and not possest?  Off Ithaca .  December 30, 1832.