Classic Poem

From his daughter, Ada

Father! what love that word reveals!
What dreams of bliss to me unknown!
Sweet sound! my inmost soul it thrills,
Like music's saddest, wildest tone.

Father! Ah! word pronounced in vain!
He hears not — echo only hears —
For ever must I breathe that name,
Gayless as now — alone — in tears.

They tell me oft his cold neglect
Should all my early love efface;
Would they could teach me to forget
His parting look, his last embrace!

And oft they chide the tear that fills
My eye while list'ning to his fame,
The thought of pride my bosom thrills,
" I am his child! — I bear his name! "

In vain they blame: they are his foes,
He did them wrong — they've cause to hate!
But in my breast the life that glows
Is his — for me to love him's fate.

Oh, still, my Father, joy will steal
Bright on my soul; while all alone
I read thy words of fire, and feel
Thine cannot be a heart of stone.

I dream each day may end my pain,
That thou, ev'n thou, canst cease to hate;
That foreign charms may lure in vain,
And home be dear for Ada's sake.

Deceitful hopes! my years roll on
And each new day is like the past;
Still, still I live unloved, alone,
Ah! this fond heart will break at last!