THE OLD BLIND MAN AND HIS GRANDDAUGHTER.
Reading edition
Silver-white his locks are straying As upon the bench he sits, While his little grandchild, playing, Round about him sings and flits. Calmly there, and unrepining, Waits he—he is old and blind; But the sun is brightly shining, And the soft spring airs are kind. "Ah! if he could once, once only, See the splendor of the vale! He, so old and weak and lonely, See the trees wave in the gale!" Then his little daughter, pressing Up against the old man's knee, With her childish, soft caressing, Filled his heart with boyish glee. Through her eyes once more beholding All the glories of the spring, Now his youth once more unfolding, Hope and joy and beauty bring.
From the German.
