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.