Hardly the worst of us
Here could have smiled!—
Only the tremulous
Words of a child;—
Prattle, that has for stops
Just a few ruddy drops.
Look. She is sad to miss,
Morning and night,
His—her dead father's—kiss,
Tries to be bright,
Good to mamma, and sweet;
That is all. "Marguerite."
Ah, if beside the dead
Slumbered the pain!
Ah, if the hearts that bled
Slept with the slain!
If the grief died;—but no;—
Death will not have it so.
Austin Dobson.
THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS.
Oft in the stilly night,
Ere slumber's chain has bound me
Fond Memory brings the light
Of other days around me:
The smiles, the tears
Of boyhood's years,
The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,
Now dimmed and gone,
The cheerful hearts now broken!
Thus in the stilly night,
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad Memory brings the light
Of other days around me.
When I remember all
The friends so linked together
I've seen around me fall,
Like leaves in wintry weather,
I feel like one
Who treads alone
Some banquet hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,
Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed!
Thus in the stilly night,
Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Sad Memory brings the light
Of other days around me.