|Collection||Kate Strong Historical Library|
|Creator||Shepard Alonzo Mount|
|Dates of Creation||18??/??/??|
|Scope & Content||
My daughter, oh my daughter
Dear Tutie fare the well,
My brain is but an echo now
Of greenwoods mournful bell.
We parted at the altar
A few brief month ago
We part again, the grave divides
And bows our head so low.
The hopefulness sustains me
Through many a weary hour,
No other face can now dispel
The clouds that round me lower.
Too early come this blighting,
Oh God! Why must it be?
When happy at your husband's side
The world look'd bright for me.
The solemn sun goes gently down,
How pure the evening sky,
That looks within the sylvan lake
Far down from where you lie.
Hope turned to marble fitly here
Companion of your lonely night)
With her sculptured arm to Heaven
Pointing to the realms of light.
I look upon that pathless space,
Thy mystic form I cannot see,
And not divining where thou art
I die remembering thee.
My daughter, oh my daughter!
Shall we ever see thee more?
And hear again the angel voice
Along some peaceful shore.
|Notes||The poem has no title. It is named here "My Daughter", the opening words are to identify it.|