 | A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England |  |
328
ON A LITTLE OLD SHOE, SENT AS A MEASURE FOR A NEW PAIR.
The trunk had come,—we crowded round,
With joy received our toys;
The cap, “a gift for mother,” found,
And bonbons for the boys.
With joy received our toys;
The cap, “a gift for mother,” found,
And bonbons for the boys.
While father with a patient “hum”
The letters did unwrap,
Sly Lizzie stole a sugar-plum,
And mother kissed the cap!
The letters did unwrap,
Sly Lizzie stole a sugar-plum,
And mother kissed the cap!
But one thing, more than all the rest,
Did sweetly speak of you,
And in my very heart I blessed
Your little worn-out shoe!
Did sweetly speak of you,
And in my very heart I blessed
Your little worn-out shoe!
Was it your dancing shoe you sent,—
A victim to the Graces?
The very holes were eloquent,
They gaped before our faces,—
A victim to the Graces?
The very holes were eloquent,
They gaped before our faces,—
329
And spoke of restless joy, and in
Our gladdened hearts we knew,
How busy the dear foot had been,
That wore that little shoe!
Our gladdened hearts we knew,
How busy the dear foot had been,
That wore that little shoe!
They told of many an errand done,
To please a mother kind;
They told of childhood's “love of fun,”
They spoke an active mind.
To please a mother kind;
They told of childhood's “love of fun,”
They spoke an active mind.
I've worn the helm a hero wore,—
I've saved a sage's line,—
And precious fragments from the shore
Of glorious Greece are mine!—
I've saved a sage's line,—
And precious fragments from the shore
Of glorious Greece are mine!—
I've kissed the gems that decked the breast
Of Europe's saddest queen;
But ne'er was relic yet caressed,
Like our old shoe I ween!
Of Europe's saddest queen;
But ne'er was relic yet caressed,
Like our old shoe I ween!
The slipper Cinderella wore,
So worshipped by her wooers,
Was never prized or cherished more
Than this dear one of yours!
So worshipped by her wooers,
Was never prized or cherished more
Than this dear one of yours!
330
And when I'd read the letter o'er,
And looked the papers through,
And praised the cap,—I turned once more
To kiss the little shoe!
And looked the papers through,
And praised the cap,—I turned once more
To kiss the little shoe!
| A Wreath of Wild Flowers From New England | |