- The sun that shines so bright above,
Knows naught about my wondrous love,
The birds that sing about the house
And in the lane
Bring nothing to my heart
But grief and pain
For it is a very dismal thing
That in my ears the birds do sing
While my beloved Anna, she has gone,
And left me here to weep and mourn.
Unthinking, idle, wild and young,
I laughed and danced and talked and sung,
And proud of health, of freedom vain
Dreamed naught of sorry, care or pain,
Concluding in those hours of glee
That all the world was made for me;
But when the hours of trial came
When sickness shook this trembling frame;
When folly's gay pursuits were o'er;
And I could sing and dance no more;
It then occurred how sad 'twould be
Were all the world but made for me.
Guess Dad and I aren't the only ones in the family who have a penchant for dealing with emotion through art.
Anna (February 10, 1813 - November 1, 1875)