Töchterchenlein, by whom the least became <br />The greatest title of dear Daughterhood, <br />Who hast not laid down life, nor spilled thy blood <br />For me, but throbbed them thro' the living frame <br />Of duteous days less different than the same, <br />Yet not too much the same to be construed <br />In number, that still multiplied thy good, <br />And, by the figure of a changing name <br />For changeless love, helped my weak utterance <br />Of thy desert; as step by step we climb <br />A height, or by a thousand measure one: <br />I verse this Poetry which thou hast done, <br />As he who gazing on a rhythmic dance <br />Finds even his common speech a little keep the time.<br /><br />Sydney Thompson Dobell<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/to-the-same-5/
