THE BLIND MAN TO HIS CHILD.
My gentle child, my gleesome one, thy father's joy and pride,
Come rest thy bright and glowing form these aged limbs beside:
I'm pining for thy silv'ry laugh; I want thy joyous tone,
For the softness of its melody can soothe this heart alone.
Come nearer, sweet one! touch me; lay thine hand upon my brow:
I've missed thy bounding step all day; oh! do not leave me now.
Nay, nay, I did not mean to chide: full well, mine own, I know
That thy light footsteps long to glide the sunny vales below;
I must not keep thee ever near, though lonely seems the day,
And mournfully the hours pass by, to me, when thou'rt away;
For these sightless orbs can never greet the forms so lov'd before,
And the joyous things of earth may meet their stricken glance no more.
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;
Thou hast been all in all to me, and I will guard thee now,
So that a shade may never be upon that laughing brow.
Then come, my own, my cherished one, the last lov'd tie to earth,
Draw near, that I may listen to thy tones of gleeful mirth;
Sing me thy sainted mother's lays, that joy this heart may fill,
And the sunny dreams of other days may rest upon me still.
And when the clouds of evening come across yon summer sea,
And night steals o'er the cottage home so lov'd by thee and me,
Together kneeling side by side we'll breathe a fervent prayer,
That God may guard the Blind old Man and bless thy tender care.
H. A.
Come rest thy bright and glowing form these aged limbs beside:
I'm pining for thy silv'ry laugh; I want thy joyous tone,
For the softness of its melody can soothe this heart alone.
Come nearer, sweet one! touch me; lay thine hand upon my brow:
I've missed thy bounding step all day; oh! do not leave me now.
Nay, nay, I did not mean to chide: full well, mine own, I know
That thy light footsteps long to glide the sunny vales below;
I must not keep thee ever near, though lonely seems the day,
And mournfully the hours pass by, to me, when thou'rt away;
For these sightless orbs can never greet the forms so lov'd before,
And the joyous things of earth may meet their stricken glance no more.
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;
Thou hast been all in all to me, and I will guard thee now,
So that a shade may never be upon that laughing brow.
Then come, my own, my cherished one, the last lov'd tie to earth,
Draw near, that I may listen to thy tones of gleeful mirth;
Sing me thy sainted mother's lays, that joy this heart may fill,
And the sunny dreams of other days may rest upon me still.
And when the clouds of evening come across yon summer sea,
And night steals o'er the cottage home so lov'd by thee and me,
Together kneeling side by side we'll breathe a fervent prayer,
That God may guard the Blind old Man and bless thy tender care.
H. A.