MY FATHER.
He is old now. And time and care have long ago Covered his locks with winter's snow And lined his brow.
His step is slow. Oft in his walk he stands to rest With folded arms upon his breast, And head bent low.
His eyes are dim, This world is fading from his sight, But flower, and tree, and sun, and light Are naught to him.
The past is his, And all day long his thoughts will roam, And weave again in fancy’s loom Old memories.
At night I hear His tottering footsteps cross the hall : Slowly and solemnly they fall Upon mine ear.
Some night I know That I shall list for them in vain, That I shall never go again To kiss his brow.
Perchance e’en now The angel beckons him away, And I, oh God ! would have him stay With me below.
I cannot weep. I watch him slipping from my side. Gliding upon life’s ebbing tide To dreamless sleep.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/periodicals/NZGRAP18920402.2.27
Bibliographic details
New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 14, 2 April 1892, Page 324
Word Count
165MY FATHER. New Zealand Graphic, Volume IX, Issue 14, 2 April 1892, Page 324
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Acknowledgements
This material was digitised in partnership with Auckland Libraries. You can find high resolution images on Kura Heritage Collections Online.