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Sorrow clouded in happiness

Sorrow Clouded in Happiness


The little sweet girl of eight,
With her pony tail straight;
And a face luminously bright,
Was such a lovely sight!

With sparkling eyes full of glee,
She smugly sat on my knee,
'Uncle', 'Uncle', queried she,
'What do you think of me? '

My thoughts ran wild-and wild,
O'er the leaves that were filed
In the archives of the mind, now mild
With the years that have piled.

How can I tell my mind to her,
That I thought better of her,
As my own dear, beloved child,
Who parted me, with grief ever tied!

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