Dear child, I know not if thy poor old father, Who mourns for thee in silence and alone, May in a long neglected garden gather Sweet blossoms in forgotten beauty grown. But I will go where thy dear hands have planted True thoughts that blossom into deeds of love, There I will pray and, if my prayer be granted, 'Twill not be long before we meet above. Creatures beloved with sad beseeching eyes, The fields, the trees, the hills, the distant lake, Are blessed for their many memories Of thee, and glorified for thy dear sake. Not thou, but I, should have been snatched from life, I had my day, but thou was't fair and young, For I am old and weary of the strife, While thy sweet psalm of life was all unsung. But this is not the whole of life. In dreaming I oft behold thee coming from afar, With high immortal love and beauty beaming, A messenger from some more happy star. The few short years of time that we have reckon'd Were but the fragments of an endless sphere; Thy mission finished, higher duties beckon'd— Not thy beginning, nor thy ending here. The pure and good, who bless the earth, must die— Wrong reigns triumphant—love is void of breath; While flaunting vice in health robust goes by, Lean wretchedness in vain implores for death. Ah, surely, God! to us so poor and lonely, Might have been left this flow'r of winter years; We had so little! Of our treasure only Remains a memory embalmed in tears. But Oh, for death I thank Thee God, my Father! I have no terrors. I will not despair. Thy will be done! In death no shadows gather. I could not keep her here, nor lose her there. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ADAM AND HIS FATHER by KAREN SWENSON CAVALIER TUNES: GIVE A ROUSE THEN FOR THE CLINIC by ROBERT BROWNING THE DANCE OF THE SEVIN DEIDLY SYNNIS by WILLIAM DUNBAR LYDIA (1) by LIZETTE WOODWORTH REESE |