The Newberry herald. [volume] (Newberry, S.C.) 1865-1884, 1873-11-05
Vol. Tx.

| siil OpH'inn over my books.
And you know th1 !--how mist woult
cog my blUodshot waking eyes,
Aud circles quivcr about the lights In dnz
cling rainbow dyes:
ihru Ia strange dim blur Of letters and lines
aud then all darkness thclc!
And poor Llind man upon his knees, IN ar
"Srny Of prayer.
Oh Jnck, dear brother! 'twas hard-'twas
hard! SO young in sorrow and strife,
10 bo left II sightlcSs burden, old man, for ali
my useless life!
Never to see the sun or the lowors, nor tho
starry heavens above,
Nor look in tho dear home faces again, &c
full of pity and love!
| know that Katie wrote to you. lad; but She
couldn't tell, dear heart,
or her soothing words, aud patient help, and
tender >istcrly part:
For how the dear old mother would say,
while her plying tears would fall,
Poor boy, his home must be always here
there's more thun enough for all"
But mnst be burden on them, knew, rs
bitterly felt at times,
And by and by l took ugain to weaving
| stories and rhymes;
And Katie would write them out for me. and
| somehow they sccm'L TO "lakc,"
For did my best, Heaven Knows, for hrls
| and the mothers sukc.
Aud quiet aud pcucc ut List came down, in
gracious answer to my prayer;
Tho chnstaning Hand that had dealt the
blow hclp'd the mourncr to bear;
And | came to think, with heart rcsign'd, =,
OF even the brief lovc-drcum
That Ind brightcnd aud blightcd my by.
gone life with Its tickle and lrcting glcuIA-
| seldom saw her--BcsSic. I mcnn-for
tho wound would ranklc still,
But Ia hear Of her almost every day from
either Katie or VIII;
Aud when tny talked of irgac, that hud
left her rich. you know,
My broken prayers went up to God for her
happiness below.
But it chanccd, NJ Sal hnd broodcI ulon,,
one summers afternoon
BY tho pleasant warmth aud tho seen. o the
flowers knew 1t wus lcafy june
Kate camo and coax d me 10 take her nrm, =,
and walk out with her. to call
At tho rectory house, or our friends would
think Pdquitc forgotten them Nil.
And Bessie was thcrc could not SEQ her
winSomc, welcoming face,
Bus the very sense Of her presence sccm'd to
glorfy the place;
And lrcmbcd uad 1ush'd In tho foolish
way that lovers understand,
At the gon,c sound of her plying voice, nnd
the touch OF her dainty hand.
We sat in the quaint ouk parlor--all, how
well knew II OF old!
Aud the good old rector proscd away about
his church and his fold, '>1
The parish schools, and tho state of the
rouds. und tho probable price of hay,
Till Bessie Mt last jumpd up from her cLnir,
in her old impuIsvc way.
"Come, who's for my summer housc?" she
said; for 1t Is so hot In here!
What! mono OF You speak2 Thon Charlie here
shall be my cavalier.
Mamma, dear. where Is that mngazinc2 o,
hero 1t is, sec:
I want to road him tho poem, you know,
that so delighted mel"
Then she took my arm md led me out, with
tender sisierly care. ,<%.
TO tho denr old gardcnS SO dark to mo, to her
so blooming and fair, 81.
TIN we came to- the arbor,, tho scene of somo
yhappiest hours O. life, f.}S ~.
Ere' I'd put from my heart It's browning
hope of calling her mySsiso.
Twas fTeppy sons list new poem she road,
and ~ may have been Yory fge. 81
but somehow her sweet voice trcmblcd so
much could hardly follow line;
And at last she gave II up with sigh, md
laid tho book away.
II think It must be the heat" she said, "bu,
| | cannot read to.dnyP'
Then there came pause-a dreamy pause
when IN fancy could SEQ
The fair fush'd face of the gontle friend Sc
full Of pity for me-;
Then She laid her dainty hand on mine-hcl
hand that trcmbled SO!
And the tears were in her tcndcr voico as she
| whispered soft and low:
"Charlle, we two are such old. old friends
that you mustn't think me bold
III ask you to tell me a secret thnt else woull
ever be untold?
What was ityou wanted to say to mo thu
evening by the mere?
Como, I'm sure you'll tell mo, won't yol
now2 for | should like to hear!
What! you dare not tell me, you say!-ah
well, | think I Can gucSs!--
And, Charlie doar, Pm sure yon know my
answer would have boon "Ycsp'
You know loved You, without ncod Of cithc
promise or vow;
And yet--how cruoli how cruol--you though
should turn away from you now.
Now, when your poor dark life has need O
tender and trusty guide;
Now, when Pm prOuder Of your love than O
aught IN the world beside:
And did you think TINT this was tho .Imo
should choose to coldly part2
All, It's little indeed you men can know O
the depths Of woman's heart!
Charlie, don't think mo unwomanly, dear-
unwomanly and woak--- D..
Because give n voice to tho love I know
you would never speak, n,....>,
,ris better SO than that both of our live
should be forlorn and lonc:
And SOFT, you care TO have mo, dear---yol
! may take me for yoar owhl" as
What need to tell Of my answer. Jack---of m.
79iny boart's ecstatic biiss.
As my ,iIps sopgiis ilsr,s, and iye SeAs,d on
loyo With h first Warhls passionate kiss?
'I@iiletrDS silent tlanss went mp to God ol