I shall leave the old house in the autumn,
To traverse its threshold no more—
Ah, how I shall sigh for the dear ones
That meet me each morn at the door.
I shall miss the good-nights and the kisses,
And the gush of their innocent glee,
The group on the green and the flowers
That are brought every morning to me.
I shall miss them at morn and eve,
Their songs in the school and the street,
Shall miss the low hum of their voices,
And the tramp of their delicate feet.
When lessons and tasks are all ended,
And death says the school is dismissed,
May the little ones gather around me
To bid me "good-night" and be kissed.
FOOTNOTES:
[2] Found in the desk of Charles Dickens after his death.
CHARITY.
When you meet with one suspected
Of some secret deed of shame,
And for this by all rejected
As a thing of evil fame,
Guard thine every look and action,
Speak no word of heartless blame,
For the slanderer's vile detraction
Yet may soil thy goodly name.
When you meet with one pursuing
Ways the lost have entered in,
Working out his own undoing
With his recklessness and sin;
Think, if placed in his condition,
Would a kind word be in vain,
Or a look of cold suspicion
Win thee back to truth again?
There are spots that bear no flowers,
Not because the soil is bad,
But the Summer's genial showers
Never made their bosoms glad.
Better have an act that's kindly
Treated sometimes with disdain,
Than, in judging others blindly,
Doom the innocent to pain.