Classic Poem

Papa, I have hither come,
To cheer you in your lonely home;
No wealth of mind to you I bring,
But I would touch the secret spring
That can your best affections move,
The fountain of a father's love.
My perfect likeness here you see,
In infantile sobriety;
But then I jump, and laugh, and play,
And call on mamma all the day;
And though you distant are so far,
I'm calling ever on papa.
If I a hoe or spade could hold,
I'd dig for California gold:
Or wash your clothes--prepare your bread,
Or sweep your room, or make your bed.
But many a year must pass away
Ere I one kindness can repay;
For I can only have control
O'er the deep currents of the soul;
I feel I have a kindly part
Within many a human heart.
Should life be spared as years pass by,
To win approval I must try.
Perchance in passing o'er life's stage,
That I may soothe your weary age;
And then in part the debt repay,
That now increases day by day.
But papa, dig your heap of gold,
That we may soon your face behold;
But to be patient we will try,
One kiss, papa, and now good by.