Classic Poem

My gentle child — my gentle child,
I scarcely knew how dear
Thou wert, while in my arms you smiled,
Or laughed and gambol'd near.

But now, that thou art far away,
And I am all alone,
I long to join you at your play,
And catch each tender tone.

To hear you call " Papa! " once more,
To dance you on my knee,
Or hear your whispered " yes! " breathed o'er,
The tales I'd tell to thee.

I long around my neck to feel
Your little hands entwine,
And from your lips sweet kisses steal,
And pay you back with mine.

But many a vale and mountain wild,
As here I sadly roam,
Divide me from my gentle child,
And from my happy home.

A thousand infant forms appear,
Lit up by laughing eyes,
But still my Ellen is not here,
And still her father sighs.

I see the happy parent fold
His darling to his breast;
But when shall I my babe behold,
My beautiful and blest?

My gentle child — my gentle child,
I scarcely knew how dear
Thou wert, while in my arms you smiled,
Or laughed and gambol'd near.

But now, that thou art far away,
And I am all alone,
I long to join you at your play,
And catch each tender tone.

To hear you call " Papa! " once more,
To dance you on my knee,
Or hear your whispered " yes! " breathed o'er,
The tales I'd tell to thee.

I long around my neck to feel
Your little hands entwine,
And from your lips sweet kisses steal,
And pay you back with mine.

But many a vale and mountain wild,
As here I sadly roam,
Divide me from my gentle child,
And from my happy home.

A thousand infant forms appear,
Lit up by laughing eyes,
But still my Ellen is not here,
And still her father sighs.

I see the happy parent fold
His darling to his breast;
But when shall I my babe behold,
My beautiful and blest?