Watertown republican. [volume] (Watertown, Wis.) 1860-1906, 1862-03-14
1 Remember.

1 Remember.
A pair of blue eyes-long, sunny brown
curls, and lips that would make you think
of ripe cherries, as much as those cheeks
would of roses.
remember pair of dimpeled arms and
shoulders, a large straw bat wreathed with
flowers and crimsonfrock trimmed with
white brade-a pair of red morocco shoes
and pinafore.
[ remember little brown cottage among
the naples, where laughing, babbling
stream meandered by, and the birds sang
all day long-the steep hill at the right
the garden with its Nreatbs of ''marignlds"
and evening beauties the porch festoon-
ed with morning glories," the graveied
path bordered with pinks leading to the
gate-the old well with its iron bound
bucket, and unwieldly sweep and moss
lined curb-and martin-box and the white
curtains at the parlor windows.
/ rember the blue skies-the DIV.
clo uds fecked with crimson and starry
nights when the moon shone, and winter
nights when the snow lay on the ground,
when there was Ginning of bells and the
peals of laughter. remember snatehes of
rhyme and pattering of little feet-and the
chime of broken dishes. and certain per-
formances on jewsharps
| remember a deal more than all this
remember day when tops and dolls we're
gathered up and put away by careful hands
when the little worn red shoes, and Grim
son frcck, and white pinafore were laid
away, almost sacredly. in an unused drawer
up sta:rs-when there was no laughter
no pattering of footsteps When the crib
was showed back against the wall, and the
little chair was put back ina distant cor
ner. I remember tears and moans-and
little calm dead face in a coffin
Dead did l say dead? No, no, that
cannot be; you are living in my heart, in
my memory, darling; living where no
sickness or pain can come, no death des-
troy. In Heaven, thank God
There is little grave under the naples
there are many such little graves there
are many broken hearts. Well, it is, if
there is One who can heal them.
There are many vacant cribs, and emp
ty chairs, and desolate homes. What
should we do if He lad not said
''sufer little children to come unto me-
Let me see that little crib, and chair
and crimson dress, and the red shoes, and
the white pinafore don't hide them away.
Strew the playthings that she loved, the
bits of broken china, the jewsharp, the
dolls, and paper dresses all around I may
shed tears over them, but they'll not be
bitter ones. The prints of little fingers
upon the furniture, don't era e them the
mark of little footsteps here and there,
don't efface them /; the little hat with fad
ed flowers twisted around it; that won't
grieve me now; don't turn up the deg
cared leaves of her littlo soiled primmer ::
her fingers made them. Put a plate to
the table where she used to sit, and chair
at its place-it will seem the more as if
she were at play or running in the garden;
not as if we had slut her out; not as if
she were dead!
| remember; aye who does not remem-
Der? Who is there on the wide earth
who has not some sacred memory hid away
from the Frying eyes of the world ?-some
recollection between which and mammon's
worshiper veil is forever drawn? Who
could quite forget if he would aye, who
would quite forget if be could?