 | Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell |  |
140
AN OLD LETTER.
The other morn, when all in careless part,
I searched the papers in an old bureau,
I met with one which thrilled and moved my heart,
Quicken'd my pulse, and made my eyes o'erflow.
I searched the papers in an old bureau,
I met with one which thrilled and moved my heart,
Quicken'd my pulse, and made my eyes o'erflow.
It was a little sheet all overrun
With writing by a hand once clasped in mine,
A hand more prized than aught beneath the sun,
Whose gift turned all my earthly to divine.
With writing by a hand once clasped in mine,
A hand more prized than aught beneath the sun,
Whose gift turned all my earthly to divine.
Dear hand! that with itself gave all it had,
Heart—confidence and love, yea every thought,
Whose lightest touch had power to make me glad,
Such sunshine into every day it brought.
Heart—confidence and love, yea every thought,
Whose lightest touch had power to make me glad,
Such sunshine into every day it brought.
Alas! dear hand, that thou shouldst be more frail
Than this once fair, but now discoloured sheet—
More passing than this ink, so faint and pale,
In which are traced these thoughts all pure and sweet.
Than this once fair, but now discoloured sheet—
More passing than this ink, so faint and pale,
In which are traced these thoughts all pure and sweet.
141
O memories that pierce the heart with pain!
O sorrow, that in tears finds best relief!
O bitter anguish, all renewed again!
O fresh return of agony and grief.
O sorrow, that in tears finds best relief!
O bitter anguish, all renewed again!
O fresh return of agony and grief.
Dear letter, thou shalt bide with me till death,
And in the narrow coffin with me lie,
For I shall tell them with my parting breath
That we must rest together—thou and I.
And in the narrow coffin with me lie,
For I shall tell them with my parting breath
That we must rest together—thou and I.
| Poems Old and New by Charles D. Bell | |