Last night we kissed hands goodbye,
never dreaming that it was forever.
Unsuspecting that you, my dear child,
soon would lie cold and still neath the heather.
The graceless Sun thoughtlessly shines
I would eclipse it forever.
The death I prepared for was mine,
but God twists the knife and is clever.
First your sister, thirteen summers ago
Then, soon after, I lost your dear Mother.
Now you, daughter- taken from me.
There's no chance this old man can recover.
The comet that shone at my birth
Will soon light its way through the heavens
I beg that it bears me away-
lets me stop being Samuel Clemens.
Dec 4, 2011
Dec 4, 2011 at 6:34 PM UTC
Last night we kissed hands goodbye,
never dreaming that it was forever.
Unsuspecting that you, my dear child,
soon would lie cold and still neath the heather.
The graceless Sun thoughtlessly shines
I would eclipse it forever.
The death I prepared for was mine,
but God twists the knife and is clever.
First your sister, thirteen summers ago
Then, soon after, I lost your dear Mother.
Now you, daughter- taken from me.
There's no chance this old man can recover.
The comet that shone at my birth
Will soon light its way through the heavens
I beg that it bears me away-
lets me stop being Samuel Clemens.
mark Twain's last surviving daughter predeceased the great American writer shortly before his date with the comet.
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