(Back to Easter Egg Poems)

The care thy father once bestowed on me,
I very gladly would return to thee.
What I to thee (thus love in a blood runs)
Do thou communicate unto my sons.
I have no land to give, such is my chance,
Take this poetical inheritance.
A little here is best: because much more
Of poetry, perhaps, would make you poor.

Clement Barksdale

CST approved

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