She looked like one to die for it; a being
Whose whole existence was the pouring out
Of rich and deep affections. I have thought
A brother’s and a sister’s love was much.
I know a brother’s is, for I have loved
A trusting sister; and I know how broke
The heart may be with its own tenderness.
But the affection of a delicate child
For a fond father, gushing as it does
With the sweet springs of life, and living on