 | Songs of two centuries |  |
110
THE ABSENT SOLDIER'S CHILD.
By the dusty roadway wand'ring,
Came I to a garden fair;
Spendthrift flowers were gaily squand'ring
Sweets upon the summer air.
Came I to a garden fair;
Spendthrift flowers were gaily squand'ring
Sweets upon the summer air.
Trained and trellised vines sedately
Nursed their buds to blossoms bright;
Trees were standing, tall and stately,
In the sunbeams' mellow light.
Nursed their buds to blossoms bright;
Trees were standing, tall and stately,
In the sunbeams' mellow light.
Lacked my lovely garden only
Human forms, to perfect be:—
Brightest spots grow dull and lonely,
When but one there is to see.
Human forms, to perfect be:—
Brightest spots grow dull and lonely,
When but one there is to see.
Look! there comes a tiny maiden,
From an angle of the wall,
With a score of flow'rets laden
(She the fairest of them all);
From an angle of the wall,
With a score of flow'rets laden
(She the fairest of them all);
To a shapely mound, low-clinging
In that garden's choicest nook,
This young maiden, softly singing,
All her blossomed riches took.
In that garden's choicest nook,
This young maiden, softly singing,
All her blossomed riches took.
With a bound, I stood before her:
“Why is this, my little maid?”
Soft I whispered, bending o'er her;
She was shy, but not afraid.
“Why is this, my little maid?”
Soft I whispered, bending o'er her;
She was shy, but not afraid.
111
In her eyes a teardrop glistened,
In her voice were thrills of love;
And I worshipped while I listened
As to angels from above:
In her voice were thrills of love;
And I worshipped while I listened
As to angels from above:
“Papa far away is sleeping
With some soldier-friends,” she said:
“He is in his Saviour's keeping;
But we cannot find his bed.
With some soldier-friends,” she said:
“He is in his Saviour's keeping;
But we cannot find his bed.
“Yes, in Heaven his soul is living!
But it makes him seem more near,
If I, flow'rets to him giving,
‘Make believe’ that he is here.”
But it makes him seem more near,
If I, flow'rets to him giving,
‘Make believe’ that he is here.”
| Songs of two centuries | |