Page:The poems of Emma Lazarus volume 1.djvu/343

Rh Aye, to bid good-night. Why do you kiss me ? To betray to-morrow ?

Dear father, you are better ; you have slept. Are you not rested ?

Child, I was not weary. There was some cloud pressed here (pointing to his forehead) but that is past. I have no pain nor any sense of ill. Now, while my brain is clear, I have a word To speak. I think not I have been to thee, Nor to that other one, an unkind father. I do not now remember any act, Or any word of mine, could cause thee grief. But I am old perchance my memory Deceives in this ? Speak ! Am I right, Annicca ?

Oh, father, father, why will you torture me ? You were too good, too good.

Why, so I thought. Since it appears the guerdon of such goodness Is treachery, abandonment, disgrace,