I MAY not rightly call thy name,â€”Â
Alas! thy forehead never knew
The kiss that happier children claim,
Nor glistened with baptismal dew.
Daughter of want and wrong and woe,
I saw thee with thy sister-band,
Snatched from the whirlpoolâ€™s narrowing flow
By Mercyâ€™s strong yet trembling hand.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem