< Poems (Coates 1916) < Volume II
For works with similar titles, see Father.
For other versions of this work, see Father (Coates).
FATHER
HOW should I dream but you were old
Who seemed so strangely wise?
The truth, had I the truth been told,
Had filled me with surprise;
But now that you are gone, alas!
Beyond Death's voiceless sea,
Still, as your birthdays come and pass,
Younger you grow to me.
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