The Worthington advance. [volume] (Worthington, Minn.) 1874-1908, 1879-01-23
CharleY.

Edna Dean Proctor In the Youths Companion.
In may, sunlit garden,
Where was neither watch nor warden.
But the butterflies and bees
Rifling the laburnum trees;
Where lilies pale and purple phlox
Bent above the bordering box,
And clustering pinks and crimson roses
Made fragrant even the orchard Closes
There one blissful hour straved
With the boy they said was laid
Forever meath the yew-treos shade
Charley, with his summers seven!-
The hall clock was striking eleven
As saw him down the stairs,
With his blue eyes and chestnut hair
Backward from his forehead blown
By the wind, that made such moan
When we lost him. Twas day
In dreary March he went away,
But that now, in glad surprise,
Breathcd a strain Of paradise.
How clasped him to my heart!
darling, naught again shall part
You and me, you and mel"
Thrice he kissed me; then in g(ee
Down the winding path he sped.
$50 he was wont Of Old to play)
could see his shining head
Bright the darkling boughs between,
As II a sunbeam glanced that way;
While followed where he led,
Followed still, through gold and green,
BY grove and walk, his dancing feet;
And as be ran now ia;ry-neet,
Now from some gloom emerging slow,
Still reckoning, still GLIDING me,
His cheek outvied the roses, glow,
His voice. the robins minstrelsy.
BY the fcathcry ferns found him;
FOndled i'll my arms wound him;
o the rapture, . the rest,
Thus to fold him to my breast,
Look i'll his eyes, put back his hair!
had no further wish, nor care
For what had been, or might befall;
The moments bliss was all in all.
Silent he sat Il little space;
The while fancicd could trace
A loftter beauty on his brow,
finer meaning in his smile.
A thrush trilled from the lilac bough.
Aud then, in tones that might beguile
The saddcst heart, so sweat they fell,
FIG whispered, "Do the rosies grow
Red as they did last year? know
The lilies seem not half so white
Since have plucked them, oil Of light,
Leaning over the crystal strcams1
In the fair garden where dwell,
Or stately fall by the golden CLEANS
VI the beds OF waving asphOdel.
IT'S true that here, when morning beams
The orchard robins MARBLE well,
But, oh! there's bird that sings to me
All day long in that garden fair,
0lnss I'LL my hcarL IS so glau ana Tree
That long to steal through the Ealmy al
And bring you straight TO that Joyous land.
Hush! u murluu1 OF wings is near!
Hank! It's his s;lvery note hear"
And qeicAly from my clasping hand
lie sprang, that wondrous bird to see,
And vanished, rs the sunlight goes
When black cloud, relentless, throws
Its shadow over lawn and tree.
And calling, flying where he fled,
passed the lilies dropping dead,
And, breath'ess, gained the vacant stair.
The sun shOne wan as winter MOON
A chill wind blew The rose tree bare.
strewingits blossoms DER the stone;
And he was gone, and l alone,
AS sharp the clock rang out for noon!
All, well! days went to weeks, to wears,
But never watch or prayers or tears
Brought my darling back to me
BY garden bower or sunny lea!
And yet it was no dream Of mine,
For soft felt his arms cntwine
About my nerk, and close and warm
Held his breathing. bcautcous form;
Heard his laugh, his footsteps fall;
Followed swift his gleeful call.
No, it was 10 dream of mine,
But joy / cannot divine
Charley with his summers seven,
Stole that hour away from heaven!