POEMS.
85
And what have I to fill this heart, but one long dream of thee?
In every thought thou hast thy part, for thou art all to me;
But oh! my child, mine own, mine own, in agony I bow,
To think I ne'er may gaze upon thy bright and gladsome brow,
To hear thy light step by my side, thy merry laugh of glee,
And know that form of joyous pride is ever dark to me.
Ah! can'st thou wonder that mine ear dwells on thy slightest tone?
Ah! can'st thou wonder that I hear its echo when alone?
Whilst thou art gaily singing 'midst thy birds and flowers choice,
To me there is no music like the music of thy voice;
And I love thee better when I think that thou hast none but me
To guide thy life's frail bark along this wide world's troubled sea,
No arm save mine to shield thy form with tenderness and care,
Lest the rough breath of sorrow's storm should'st wave thy sunny hair.
Aye! we ave linked together by a firm and holy tie,
Which nothing e'er shall sever 'till cold in death I lie;
In every thought thou hast thy part, for thou art all to me;
But oh! my child, mine own, mine own, in agony I bow,
To think I ne'er may gaze upon thy bright and gladsome brow,
To hear thy light step by my side, thy merry laugh of glee,
And know that form of joyous pride is ever dark to me.
Ah! can'st thou wonder that mine ear dwells on thy slightest tone?
Ah! can'st thou wonder that I hear its echo when alone?
Whilst thou art gaily singing 'midst thy birds and flowers choice,
To me there is no music like the music of thy voice;
And I love thee better when I think that thou hast none but me
To guide thy life's frail bark along this wide world's troubled sea,
No arm save mine to shield thy form with tenderness and care,
Lest the rough breath of sorrow's storm should'st wave thy sunny hair.
Aye! we ave linked together by a firm and holy tie,
Which nothing e'er shall sever 'till cold in death I lie;
