Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE DAUGHTER OF THE BLIND, by ANNE M. F. ANNAN



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THE DAUGHTER OF THE BLIND, by            
First Line: My father dear! 'tis sweet to me
Last Line: To lure me from your side!
Alternate Author Name(s): Buchanan, Anne M. F.
Subject(s): Blindness; Visually Handicapped


MY father dear! 'tis sweet to me
These calm, soft evening hours,
Thus, with your hand in mine, to be
Among my gentle flowers.
I've planted such as you can love, --
Not things of flaunting bloom,
But such as seem to have a soul
That speaks through their perfume; --
The thyme that sheds its fragrance o'er
The foot by which 'tis trod, --
An emblem of God's loved, the meek,
Who kiss the smiting rod;
And jasmines sweet, which sweeter breathe
The lower sinks the sun,
Like the true heart which fonder grows
As sorrow's night comes on!

Though, with their glorious poesy,
The stars to you are dim,
Does not each wind that wafts about
Speak to you in a hymn?
The very breeze to which I give
This breath, may but to-day,
Have linger'd in memorial fanes
Of ages pass'd away;
From the lone mart of vanish'd men
The desert's sands have roll'd,
And stirr'd the ivy where the lay
Of chivalry was troll'd; --
Oh! while a thousand themes they bring
Of temple, tower and tomb,
One fill'd like thou with lofty love
Sure cannot live in gloom!

And when with snows our walks are spread,
From Milton's deathless page
I'll read the visions seraphs brought
To cheer his sightless age:
I'll read of pageant's proud which flash'd
Through Homer's dawnless night,
And blind old Ossian's fancies fraught
With shadowy forms of might;
And while my voice is sweet to you,
And veil'd my form and face,
I'll smile that nature holds from me
Her gifts of bloom and grace;
For the vain world heeds not the one
That lacks such things of pride,
And will not bring its tempting wiles
To lure me from your side!





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