The Child of the Poet
The sunshine of thy Father's fame Sleeps in the shadows of thy eyes, And flashes sometimes when his name Like a lost star seeks its skies.
In the horizons of thy heart His memory shines for aye, A light that never shall depart Nor lose a single ray.
Thou passest thro' the crowds unknown, So gentle, so sweet, and so shy； Thy heart throbs fast and sometimes may grow low； Then alone Art the star in thy Father's sky.
'Tis fame enough for thee to bear his name ——Thou couldst not ask for more； Thou art the jewel of thy Father's fame, He waiteth on the bright and golden shore； He prayeth in the great Eternity Beside God's throne for thee.
The sunshine of thy Father's fame Sleeps in the shadows of thy eyes, And flashes sometimes when his name Like a lost star seeks its skies.
In the horizons of thy heart His memory shines for aye, A light that never shall depart Nor lose a single ray.
Thou passest thro' the crowds unknown, So gentle, so sweet, and so shy； Thy heart throbs fast and sometimes may grow low； Then alone Art the star in thy Father's sky.
'Tis fame enough for thee to bear his name ——Thou couldst not ask for more； Thou art the jewel of thy Father's fame, He waiteth on the bright and golden shore； He prayeth in the great Eternity Beside God's throne for thee.