To My Cygnet - Poem by Patricia Wulf
My angel, my daughter, my cygnet dear,
When will you see yourself as God and I do?
When will you see what God’s sons think of you?
How can you at this dapple-grey down shed tears?
For your beauty, your worth is why you are here.
After a mere, short while is quickly through,
others will in awe and astonishment coo
at your splendor, perfection of many tiers.
Comments about To My Cygnet by Patricia Wulf
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Still I Rise
The Road Not Taken
If You Forget Me
Edgar Allan Poe
Stopping By Woods On A Snowy Evening
Do Not Stand At My Grave And Weep
Mary Elizabeth Frye
I Do Not Love You Except Because I Love You