A Hope


As a feeble father fearing his death
Confides his hidden treasures to his son,
That the son through proper use of that wealth
May prosper in life, and whose growth lead on;
So I desire to confer upon you
Those deserts that in me I steel nourish
Before to all I'll have to bid adieu,
And with my corpse in flames those must perish:
Thou art the field worthy of sowing with
My talents's grains to fulfil my prospects,
And I do hope that thou become a myth
In time to come producing teeming harvests.
Though I am not your biological sire
Thou will prove to be my intellect's heir.

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