Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton collected and arranged by H. Augusta Dodge |
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TO—YOU! IF YOU UNDERSTAND THEM |
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 | Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton |  |
TO—YOU! IF YOU UNDERSTAND THEM
Roses budding and blushing
When “the skies are ashen and sober”—
June's young fingers wreathing
The brows of the swart October—
The dewy light of the morning
Gilding the evening hours—
Age bright with the smiles of life's dawning,
So whisper to me your flowers.
When “the skies are ashen and sober”—
June's young fingers wreathing
The brows of the swart October—
The dewy light of the morning
Gilding the evening hours—
Age bright with the smiles of life's dawning,
So whisper to me your flowers.
Childhood's mysterious slumbers
Wonderful, dreamy, deep—
Before the gaunt fingers of Care
Have plucked at the robes of Sleep—
Faint notes of a distant lyre
Struck by an unseen hand—
Vaguely remembered journeyings
Into a far-off land—
Over the sunset hills,
Over the ocean billow—
Such are their whispers to me—
The rose-buds you strewed on my pillow.
Wonderful, dreamy, deep—
Before the gaunt fingers of Care
Have plucked at the robes of Sleep—
Faint notes of a distant lyre
Struck by an unseen hand—
Vaguely remembered journeyings
Into a far-off land—
Over the sunset hills,
Over the ocean billow—
Such are their whispers to me—
The rose-buds you strewed on my pillow.
109
I accept the omen and pray
That their warm and roseate hue
May be but a beautiful symbol
Of the future that waiteth for you—
That their purity, sweetness, and fragrance
May circle your life till it closes—
And we trace out your path to the heavens,
My love, by the scent of the roses.
That their warm and roseate hue
May be but a beautiful symbol
Of the future that waiteth for you—
That their purity, sweetness, and fragrance
May circle your life till it closes—
And we trace out your path to the heavens,
My love, by the scent of the roses.
Hartford, Conn., Oct. 19, 1855.
| Chips, fragments and vestiges by Gail Hamilton | |