But there came a letter one quiet evening
To the man who was dearer to me than life--
"A picture," he said, as he tore it open,
"Look, sweet friend, at my fair young wife."
A terrible anguish, a seething anger,
Heaved my bosom and blanched my cheek,
And he who stood there holding the letter,
He watched me smiling, but did not speak.
I took the picture and gazed upon it--
A sweet young creature with sunny hair
And eyes of blue. "May the good Lord keep you,"
I said aloud, "in his tender care--
You who are wedded and bound forever
Unto this man," and I met his eyes--
"This soulless villain, this shameless coward,
Whose heart is blackened with acted lies."
My heart swelled full of a terrible hatred,
And something of murder was burning there,
But a better feeling stole in behind it
As I looked on the picture sweet and fair;
I turned and left him, and never saw him--
Never looked on his face again,
And time has tempered my shame and sorrow,
And soothed and quieted down my pain.
But I always tremble, in awful anger,
That wears and worries my waning life,
When I think how he clasped me close to his bosom,
He--with a lawfully wedded wife.
When I think how I answered his fond caresses,
And clung to his neck in a trance of bliss,
And the tears of a life time and all my sorrow
Can never remove the stain of his kiss.
1869
[WHEN I AM DEAD]
When I am dead, if some chastened one,
Seeing the "item," or hearing it said
That my play is over, and my part done,
And I lie asleep in my narrow bed--
If I could know that some soul would say,
Speaking aloud or silently,
"In the heat, and burden of the day,
She gave a refreshing draught to me;"
Or, "when I was lying nigh unto death,
She nursed me to life, and to strength again,
And when I labored and struggled for breath,
She soothed and quieted down my pain;"
Or, "when I was groping in grief and doubt,
Lost, and turned from the light o' the day,
Her hand reached me and helped me out,
And led me up to the better way."
Or, "when I was hated and shunned by all,
Bowing under my sin and my shame,
She, once, in passing me by, let fall
Words of pity and hope that came
Into my heart, like a blessed calm
Over the waves of the stormy sea,
Words of comfort like oil and balm.
She spake, and the desert blossomed for me."
Better by far, than a marble tomb--
Than a monument towering over my head;
(What shall I care, in my quiet room,
For head board or foot board, when I am dead)
Better than glory, or honors, or fame,
(Though I am striving for those to-day)
To know that some heart will cherish my name,
And think of me kindly, with blessings, alway.