The weekly clarion. [volume] (Jackson, Miss.) 1863-1882, 1873-11-13
BESSIE AND 1.
IN TWO PARTS

Enjoyd your dinner, have you my boy?
Well come, that jolly, you know
Though / wish that Bessie had been here, TO,
she's longing to see you so.
Here, bring your chair to the FIRE, old man
and don't be afraid o the wine;
And Wen have quiet weed, if you like, ane
chat on aud lang syne.
So tbs seven years since you went away, and
have been married ive
| What you thought hadn't the cheek tc
propose TO girl? Why man alive
| lis the strangest, most delightful thing that
/ ever happened, you see:
1 didn't pop the question: at all Twas
Bessie proposed 10 me
Here, Eddie and Sid you may run off now,
/ and have game o play;
| Come, you know what mamma was TO bring
| you home, If you be good children to-dayl
| our uncle and l have lot o things that we
want to talk about;
And you shall come in again, my dears, when
we've had our gossip out.
| And now for my tale, though l hardly know
what Bessie would say If she knew
/ By Jove, how she'll open her eyes when she
comes to be introduced to youl
| As told you, she's spending the day with a
/ friend-ber cousin, by the bye
/ Who just been obeying the old command, to
increase and multiply.
| Well, you know what our prospects were, old
man - our mothers and Hates and
mine 81
When You babe Us goodbye to go to sea in the
| With the mothers pension and jointure, you
know, she was pretty well off, and then
| We thought l was sure to make my mark, wi hat
with the bar and the pen.
1 remember how you laughed at my rhymes,
you unbeievInG Jew.
And used TO rout out from my books to go
and idle with You
But the mother and Kate believed in me, as
our foolish women folks will,
And Bessie dubb' me her laureate and
knight of the grey goose quill.
You know what Bessie was as child. in the
dear old bygOne days,
| With her big brown eyes and golden head and
her pretty willful ways;
How she plagued, and chsrm'd and queen it
0 er US youngsters Oft and Oft,
Yet what dear little heart it was, how cling
ing and tender and soft
Her brother Willie and were odd particu-
lars, bear in mind,
And the good old rector and his wife were al
ways hearty and kind,
So that hardly day would pass away but
found myself, you see,
In the quaint old garden with Bessie and
Will, and who happy as we?
Heigho they were pleasant times, old man
AieSHI anu HopoIui anu true,
Ere the foot of time had trampled and solid
the sheen of Iife's morning dew
When | think of those garden walks and
pranks, what tender memories rise
With Bessie the center figure OF all, with her
merry mischlevo1s eyes
Well, went to Heidelberg, as you know, to
finish my school career,
In that quaint old home of specialized lore,
II meerschaums and lager beer;
And when | came back my child playmate had
vanished, and in her place
Was a fair girl-woman, shy and sweet with
gentle, wlnsome face.
And loved her. loved her-God knows how
well from her first shy, welcoming
glance,
With passion as strong and tender and pure
az the love of old Romance;
And sheF-she was always pleasant and kind
with the friend of her childhood gay,
But whether my darling loved me or no was
more than | could say.
Willie and Kate were engaged you know, and
they d look so conscious and shy,
That we used to tease and banter them both,
his sister Bessie and L;
And when they'd begin to whisper and sigh, /
couldn't do less, you'll own
Than draw sweet Bessie away with me- and
leave the lovers alone.
We were out in the fields, one summers eve
how well remember it still =
And somehow two had wandered away
from love-lorn Katie and Win,
Till we came in the dusk to the lone black
mere, where the aspen branches wave,
And she coax'd me to tell her its legend grim
of love beyond the grave.
Then I locke down into her soft brown eyes,
with their witching and lustrous spell,
And | WHISPERED, Dear, I've another tale
that should like to tell II
When we heard a merry shout from behind,
and up came Willie and Kate
And the loving words died out on my lips, and
knew my story must wait.
But she seem'd from that very time to grow
more shy and distant, you see;
| never could meet her out alone, or tempt her
to walk with me;
And when | tried to draw her aside and whis-
per loving word,
She d flush and tremble, and futter away, like
pretty frightened bird.
saw she stunned me, and said to myself,
with proud and passionate throe,
" She loves me not, and would spare us both
the pain of telling me SO;
And I'd rather, God knows, that nv heart
should break, in its silence bitter and
drear,
Than I'd poster a woman with whispers and
vows that she doesn't care to hear"
tied glooInily down
To the drearv study of the law, In my cham
bers up in town;
left the lovers tender role for the sterner
And thought to live my passion down, and
root it out of my heart.
But in vain, in vain; for while my eyes were
bent the musty page,
My truaut thoughts would wander away to the
pleasant parsonage,
And in fancy I'd see her winsome face-too
winsome and fair to tell
With the soft, shy look in her lustrous eyes
that l knew too well, too well
Yet kept to my work with logged heart
that naught could conquer or tame;
"Since love is denied me, ,, bitterly said, I'll
make myself name,
l was up with the first faint streak of dawn,
with pallid and haggard looks,
And midnight found me with aching head
still bending over my books.
And you know the ndi-how mist would
clog my bloodshot waking eyes:
And circles CULVER about the lights in dazzling
rainbow dyes;
Then a strange, dim blur of letters and lines
and then-all darkness there
And poor blind man upon his knees, in an
agony of prayer.
Oh. Jack, dear brotherl twas hard-twas
hard so young in sorrow and strife,
To he left a sightless burden, old man, for all
my useless lifel
Never to see the sun or the flowers, nor the
starry heavens above,
Nor look in the dear home faces again, so full
of pity and love
| know that Kate wrote to you, lad; but she
couldn't tell, dear heart
OF her soothing words and patient help, and
tender and sisterly part;
Nor how the dear old mother would say, while
her pitying tears would fall,
Poor bow. his home must be always here,
there's more than enough for all y
But I must be burden on them, 1 knew, as I
bitterly felt at times,
And by and by took again to weaving stories
and rhymes;
And Katie would write them out for me, and
somehow they seem d to take,