No picture of her I have…
…No piece of clothing,
…Nor toy played with,
…Nothing written kept in remembrance.

I’ve not seen her as a babe… cresting in my arms…
…Nor have I seen her at play in the fields that adorn our abode,
…No young lady (out and about) slaying young men with mischief have I seen,
…Nor do I see an old dame with happiness in her eyes.

Did she spread her love to all to feel?
Did she look upon a field of thorns and see roses in-between?

None of these I can see, but for the wishes in my heart,
…by providence I do see my daughter to be,
…and I wonder…

…By what name shall I call her to me?

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