Lines, From Mary to Her Father in California, with Her Daguerreotype.
Reading edition
Papa, I have hither come, To cheer you in your lonely home; No wealth of mind to you I bring, But I would touch the secret spring That can your best affections move, The fountain of a father's love. My perfect likeness here you see, In infantile sobriety; But then I jump, and laugh, and play, And call on mamma all the day; And though you distant are so far, I'm calling ever on papa. If I a hoe or spade could hold, I'd dig for California gold: Or wash your clothes--prepare your bread, Or sweep your room, or make your bed. But many a year must pass away Ere I one kindness can repay; For I can only have control O'er the deep currents of the soul; I feel I have a kindly part Within many a human heart. Should life be spared as years pass by, To win approval I must try. Perchance in passing o'er life's stage, That I may soothe your weary age; And then in part the debt repay, That now increases day by day. But papa, dig your heap of gold, That we may soon your face behold; But to be patient we will try, One kiss, papa, and now good by.