A dying mother gave to you <br />Her child a many years ago; <br />How in your gracious love he grew, <br />You know, dear, patient heart, you know. <br /> <br />The mother's child you fostered then <br />Salutes you now and bids you take <br />These little children of his pen <br />And love them for the author's sake. <br /> <br />To you I dedicate this book, <br />And, as you read it line by line, <br />Upon its faults as kindly look <br />As you have always looked on mine. <br /> <br />Tardy the offering is and weak;-- <br />Yet were I happy if I knew <br />These children had the power to speak <br />My love and gratitude to you.<br /><br />Eugene Field<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-mary-field-french/
