The Wilmington daily Republican. (Wilmington, Del.) 1890-1902, 1894-06-01
VALENTINE.


IT'S more than three score yearu apS ten.
Our life'S allotted span.
Since first, in youthful happy Gays,
Our friendship true began,
IT'S moro than three score years and ten,
Since as Joyous child.
played with you on Stratford green,
In many frolic wild.
AS look back upon those years.
Three score anu ten and five,
Of all the mates We numbered then
But we two are alive.
We two. of all that happy band,
OF sportive girls aud boys;
WHO Wept together childish griefs.
Or smiled DER childish joys.
And we're far down the vale of yeara
And time Is fieeting fast.
Yet, would be child once more,
And Hive again the past.
Years sevent.five how thrills my heart,
As memorysbenrs me back.
To tread again. with buoyant step,
My girihood' 3 sunny track.
But In life's retrospect see.
Full many a saddened scene.
For life has not been al play.
On dear old Stratford green.
We've drank. dear friend. Its mingled
cup.
OF sorrow and of Joy.
Since was but a sportive girl.
You Rfree- hearted boy.
We both were blessed with many friends
How few are left alive.
The dearly loved have passed away,
And yet westlll survive.
We still survive, and il may be,
year. perhaps day.
When. like the loved ones gone before,
We, too, shall pass away.
God grant that in life's parting hour,
Our tolls and labors done.
We may go gently to our rest,
As sinks yon setting sun.
When we were young were stirring times,
The nge of Iron men,
Who rung the trumpets warlike shout,
From every hill and glen.
Who stood for country and for home.
For liberty and life.
''God and tho right" their battle cry.
They conquered in the strife.
IT'S true we were but children,
But we remember well.
How many heart was desolato.
How many patriot fell.
For oft the parent on his knee.
Would seat his lisping child,
And tell strange tales of battle scenes,
And legends stern and wild.
And oft our childish checks were
And childish tears would flow.
As wonderingly we listened then
To deeds of blood and woe,
But joy best suits the youthful heart
Its pulse is b. light and free.
And So ss IL has ever been.
1t was with you and me.
And still your boyhood' sports went on
My Virlilood's laughter rang.
For In those days of sternest> deeds
Both you and | were young.
Do YOU remember. dear old friend,
The simple village school.
Where Mr.. Ayres taught little folks
To read and write by rule?
Children were timid, teachers stern,
In those, our youthful days,
When copy-book In hand we went,
Trembling, to seek his praise,
And when you won the wished for boon,
And stood sadly by.
You often caused n ray of hope
To light my down-cast eye.
No matter what the teacher said.
Came to my ear the flatterlng words,
That mine Was always best.
Do you remember that sent
Yon then valentine?
Fine sentiments, perhaps. IL lacked.
Itut love breathed in every line.
1t seems but yesterday. these i've
And seventy years ago,
You then had owned no other belle
And no other beaux
| in return ribbon got.
bright withtrue loves own hue.
Aud much IL pleased my grilsh TASTE
For it was the bonniest blue.
But childhood quickly passed away.
And hearts were lost and won.
And you soon owned another love,
And another John.
With lin iourneyed many year.
Happy and blest were we,
He lived TO see his bairns' BARN
Prattling on his knee.
We climbed together up the hill,
But down alone GO.
And soon together at its foot
With him I'll lay me low.
Yet not atone, for loving hearts,
Are left In children dear,
Who Ia my downward path of life,
Smt 9th each declining year.
And oft to glad my aged eye,
My CHI ildren's children come,
Ana merry laughter rings again
In my Old happy home.
For you. sole mate of earliest days,
Eve east II back ward eye,
Along the changing trac6 OF time.
As swift 1t hurried by.
And forward may we dare to look1
Another opening year
Hath dawned upon us. and its close
Muy scarcely find us here.
One may he taken, one be left,
1t may be or sou,
Still while we live, dear early friend,
Shall i've our friendship true.
My years now number eighty eight,
And yours are eighty-nine.
Yet once more. as III DAYS OF yore,
Accept my valentine.