Daily intelligencer. [volume] (Wheeling, Va. [W. Va.]) 1859-1865, 1865-02-27
Cite gnteIGigeufer.
THE DUmB CHILD.


She Is my only girl,
ask ed for her A. some most precious thlng:-
For ali unhniIhed was LOVe'6 JeWeled ring,
TlI set with this soft peaTli
The shadow time brought forth could not see,
How pure, how perfect seemed the gift to me
sds Oh { many q soft old tune fr.
1 unsd 10 ding unto that deafened ear,
And Su1srod not the slightest FOOtStep near,
Lest 6he might wake too soon g..
And hushed her 6rotheFE laughter while she lay.
Ah needless carsi might have let them play.
'Twas long ere Ibslieved
That III this one daughter miEht not SPeAh 20 me;
Waited and WAtched-God knows how PATIENTLY
How willingly deceived. ,,,.,
Vain Love WIS long the untiring nurse Of Iaitht
And tSudOd Hope until It starved to death.
oh, If she could but hear
Yor one short hour, TIL her tongue might teach
To cali me mother, in the broken speech
That thrills the mothers earl
AIAsi those sealed lips never may be stirred
To the deep music Of that holy word.
Ny heart 1t sor.Iy tries,
To see her kneel with such GFeTerent air
Beside her brothers AttheIr tyspiRg prayer
Or lit those earnest eyes
To watch our lips, As though our words she knew,
Then move her own, aU she Was speaking, too.
I've watched her looking up
To the bright wonder Of q sunset Rky,
With Euch q depth Of meaning in her eye,
That could almost hePe
TheGtruggiing soul would burt It's binding cords,
And the long pent mp thoughts dow forth In Wordl
The song Of bird and bee, 90
The ehUTus Of the bEeezea, streams and groves,
All the grand music to which nature moves,
Arc wasted melody
To her; the world Of sound q tuneless void;
While even Eilsnee hath It's charms destroyed.
Ter face Il very hir:
Her blue oyss beautiful; Of finest mould
The soft white brow, Ger which, In waves OfgOld,
Rippls5 hex shining hair.
AlaBi this lovely temple closed must be,
EOr He ~hO made It keeps the matter key.
Wills He the mind within
Should from eATth's Babel elGmoT be kept free,
Zen that His still, small voice and step might be
Heard pt the inner shrine,
Through thHtdeopbubh Of SOuE, with clearer thrill
Then should gEievei o. murmming heart, be still
She seems to have a sense
ofquIet glSdness, in her noiselelI play,
She hath pleasant emile, gentle way, 49,
Whose VoieeleSS eloquence
Touches all hesTtS,-thO0Rh had once the fear
That even her father would not care for her.
Thank God, It IS not sol
Aud when his sons are playing meFTily.
She comes and leans her head upon his knee
o, at such times know,
by bis full eye and tones Bnbdued and mild, rel
How bis heart yeHrns over his silent child. ar
Not oGAlI gifts bereit, !..- at
Even now. How Oeuld I say che did mot SpeGki
What real Language lights her eye and cheek,
And thanks to Him Who left
Unto her soul yet open avenues '-'.a q
For Oys to enter, and for love TO usol
AID God in love doth give 3gI
To her defect \ beauty pitts own, D.. .ea
And We deeper tenderness have known -
Through that for which We RTIevs;
Yet shall the seal be melted from her ear,
Yea, and my voice shall I'LL it-but not hero.
When that now sense IS given,
What rapture will Its hrOt experience be,
That never woke to meAnor melody .
Than tho rich songs Of heaven
To hear the fulLtonsd anthem swelling round,
WhilO angels teach the OcStAeiOs Of SOundI