Vermont phÅ“nix. [volume] (Brattleboro, Vt.) 1834-1955, 1876-09-08
Miscellany.


never meant to wrong you-this is true,
Although you wear look Of unbelief;
No wonder, either, knowing all you do,
But you may trust me, for my time ls brief.
These are the last words shall speak with you
And then the evil tale OF shame and grief
Comes to an ending. II will all be done
Before the shining Of another san.
There was time you loved me- certainly
How long ago II seems, and far awayl
1 wonder sometimes was It really me
You married and brought home that summer daI
That June day, sweet with song Of bird and bee,
To the old house that fronted on the bayl
Ahl dear old housed l see the still
That used to climb around the window-sill.
1 smell the salt sca-wind that used to blow
Across the marshes, and hear again
The tapping Of the water to and fro,
The screaming Of the gulls before the rain
Those little things that happened long ago;
Tonight they all come back to be 80 plain
l see the very boats that used to ride
Backward and forward on the shifting tide.
II this were all dream and could wake,
And find myself in that old house once more,
And smell the sea, and hear the plash and break
or tapping waves along the level shore,
should be glad-so glad. Nor would make
The misery for you made before.
Would had dreamed 1t all, and could undo
The sorrow and the wrong wrought for youl
never meant it, though-you must believe
My dying words had no thought Of sin,
No thought Of anything but to retrieve
Some empty hours, some diversion win
For time hung heavy, and used to grieve,
More than you knew, for my own home and kin !;
I missed m that old houHe beside the
So much, you know, that had been dear 10 me.
You were absorbed with many a veghty care,
And could not take the time, perhaps, to heed;
1t seemed to tax your patience but to spare
An hour or so at evening for my need;
And so thought hardly had my share
OF wifely honor, and was indeed,
And bitter often with a sense of wrong
That made the days more desolate aud long.
If I had had child-but there, again,
That boon universal and 50 free
/ Of all others must desire in win
The Joy Of motherhood was not for me.
1 would have borne its utmost care and straiR-
No woman on Gods earth more willingly
Could have ever rocked to happy rest
A baby Of my own upon my breast.
You never thought eared2 Ahl well, did,
And there were other things cared for, too;
But shyly half, and half in pride kept hid
By reason Of my bittSt thoughts Of you;
Why should tell you, only TO be child
For discontent7 And so you never knew
How dull my days were, and how sore the smart
OF disappointment in my empty heart.
He knew without the teling-al the rest
Grew out Of this with such gradual growth
never saw the dAnger-never guessed
That was false at heart to welded troth-
TIL sudden passion leaped up unrepressed,
And sudden ruin overwhelmed us both.
No need to tell you more, you know the worst:
But truly, was innocent at first.
Sometimes iceland you will smile, no doubt,
bitter smile, and scornful, when I've said
The wicked thing you1l think it, boldly out
feel as If / shall not wholly dread
That would have stoned 4 sinful woman dead
He knows my sin. and my temptation too;
He will not be SO stern judge as you.
So 60 forth to meet Him, glad to go
For in this world is more room for me.
There is another life somewhere, know,
And, Christ being in it, it may also be
That shall ind my place there, and may grow
To something worth Tedeeming finally.
1 see your plying look-I hear your sigh;
No matteri Kiss once before die.
MARY Z. Bradley, in Appletons Journal.