Poems; original and translated by Charles Rann Kennedy ... and Two Poems by the Rev. Rann Kennedy. New Edition. By Charles Rann Kennedy |
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To C. W. |
 | Poems; original and translated |  |
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To C. W.
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[The father of the lady to whom these lines are addressed was an officer in the Indian army, and served in the campaign against Tippoo Saib. He was severely wounded, and lost his hearing and his sight. His daughter was for many years in constant attendance upon him, conversing and reading to him with her fingers.]
A daughter's faithful service was at hand,
Recalling to his ear full many a page
Of ancient wisdom and a classic age;
Blest maiden, who could recompense the care
Of such a father, and his loss repair!
Nor less, Cecilia, do we view in thee
An image true of filial piety;
Whose parent through a dreary length of years
Afflicted sore a double burden bears.
An ear is his with cold obstruction bound,
Dead to the world of harmony and sound;
Eyes lustreless, that never greet the day
Or feel the bright effulgence of her ray:
But for a daughter's love, the same sad gloom
That wraps the senses would the mind entomb.
Thou, fond one, at his side art ever near,
His wants to aid, his solitude to cheer:
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By finger-speech to commune with thy sire,
By touches light and nimble to convey
Whatever pen could write or tongue could say.
From silent darkness thou hast set him free,
Thou mak'st the deaf to hear, the blind to see.
Accomplish'd lovely dame, by nature fit
To dazzle by thy beauty or thy wit,
Expert in mazes of the dance to swing,
Or wake sweet echoes from the tuneful string,
Thy soul, for ever placid and serene,
Eschews the tumult of the festive scene,
The gay saloon, the rout, the midnight ball
Content to quit for sacred duty's call.
Be thine the meed to virtuous daughters given,
A father's blessing and approving Heaven!
| Poems; original and translated | |