Oh, My Beloved Dad

I pray you not to be So benign as a man can be Or, even, as a mother to her fruit of love shall be Since you have neglected my will I have begun to think of you ill Even when I did confess my trouble, still You ignored me by a wave of hand, Simply uttering to me a ‘fare thee (well)’ then. You have no ears, my dad. You have closed your eyes, my beloved dad. And this is the only thing that I most regret To lose but never regain, My wasted love lay in your hands in vain.