The Princeton union. [volume] (Princeton, Minn.) 1876-1976, 1880-08-12
!. An An OLD 81 NIIAll \ LOVE.
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An old and feeble man was this st
HIVE OF whom this story's told to-day; {S
Sorrows he'd known as well as bliss,
And he had nearly closed Hfo's plAy; s % *
But still he had no thought that tims 3s9
Had such wild wings as 1t Jew on, XII
And SO he passed his life Of prose and rhyme,
And youth, he thought was here, was gone.
And manhood in its prime had disappeared,
While wrinkles deep, marked oer his face,
Had now to show that what he feared
.f While young had found 3 lodging place;
But stiIl he would not know twas 80, u
I = But toied on with dry and cracking bones,
Trying to keep ahead Of worldly woe, s.
And stunning the place that's covered DER with
And thus he tolls, with shoulders stopping down,
Writing with greatest viii to-day. 81 9~f 81 asStl
And looks not up. But DER his crown 4s2
" gray the morning sunbeams play b.
fernaps Twill not be wrong to steal look a
Upon on tns page where crooked lines are seen,
" age; and what it's love has been. .sS
And 50 we look, and this is what we see
Scrawled upon the sheet before us: 3qf ~
win show that with us, early though death be.
Those that live will e'er deplore us. T
And though our mate may live an hundred year
And i've and seventy more than we. \ . i 5&'
He'll only recollect through smiles and tears
Our youth and its sad destiny. #55
+
Hong to clasp thee in these arms again, st&#
TO shield thee from the ills and pain s4 y .-s
This life control.
4 Thou vert my joy but few DAYS ago. i&l
But death hath robbed thee from the earth.
And taken youth and beauty well as worth,
And only memory left to know
That thou vast here, and all that's good Of thee.
feel handl think it must be thine! @ .s.
Aye, those fingers that so quietly INTERVENE &
Are thine for me is n 81 \
All, yes, indeed, it is. I hear sound!
That gentle voice only hers could be! E Ss
And thus hear her say? 6 Come up to me;
Pleasures here abound. /" 3s &
~ %sssa b ess IN fm many day
And DER whose brow no sign no trace e
Ii found Of LIES decay.
Return to me, that may see thee yet
That may love thee as In days gone by
Wen foster joys, that ills OF earth may die, q
And not our paths beset. E.# &
Answer, my love, and tell it unto me
That thou wilt come and ease my aching heart
What dost thou say? "Here love, We never part
Come up to me- @g, sa =. E
must, for life without my youthful bride
Is tasteless, and I'd better far be there Is.
And breathe the incense Of the heavenly air,
When death hath died. s.
I So wait for me, I'll soon be there with thee,
For am getting tired, and down viii lie,
And rest myself before the trip, try,
To once more see AN
ana love tnee, more IMAM nave loved thee yet. 8
And the trembling hand is weakening now,
AS he guides the pen, and wonders how .
He'll CROSS unto his pet. W. IS
But he loves to talk to his darling one g
And he tolls on and tells her Of his love
OF how he'd die to meet her up above, ~
If otherwise it can't be done /.
The pen is wandering DER the page, IL, fs F.
The scrawls are almost meaningless, - aqa
But love abounds in this rude DRESS !e.
And Is not lessened cen by age. n
At last the pen drops from his hand;
The hand falls listless by his side;
The smiles Of youth the aged burrows hide
Bespeak better land. tt i.9gs
They touch the wrinkled brow 80 clarnmy,
With deaths stain stamped upon the clay,
They know that now his souls begun the day 4
In regions ever balmy. .a
No more will sorrows crowd upon his head;
Bis dreams of Lena now realized;
And all the good for man by Heaven devised
Are resting on his head .-L.L =