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.