My Daughters Dear

The worlds I sought and thought to win

Have slipped so far, my daughters dear;

I loved and lost them, every one,

They turned away and left me here.

 

The mere of memory runs deep,

And dark the depths, and chill the shore,

While those we love are often left

To perish at the warm heart’s core.

 

For every step aside we stray,

For every hurt, and every gall,

We lose the thread that marks the path

Between each other, and the fall.

 

And those we love will often turn

To tear at us in bleak revenge,

For some omission, dim perceived

That pencils ‘finis’ at the end.

 

So if I miss your growing years

And all the sound of laughter near �"

Tear not the web I wove you through,

I love you still… my daughters dear!

 

David Lewis Paget