Richmond dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1884-1903, 1894-11-11
Sister and j.

RICHMOND, VA, November u A0'"
To the Editor Of the Dispatch:
In response to the request or w. IL. ~
IN Yesterdays paper, send you the fol-
lowing poem: F. " ~
SISTER AND l.
We were hunting for wintergreen berries,
one May-day long gone py,
out on the rocky cliffs edge,
Little Sister and /.
Sister had hair like the sunDeamsh
Black as a crows wing mine,
Sister had blue. doves eyes;
Wicked, black eyes are mine.
Why, see how my eyes are faded-
And my hair, 1t Is white as snow!
And thin, too! don't you see IL Is
1 tear II sometimes; so!
There, don't hold my hands. Maggie,
/ don't feel like tearing 1t now;
But. where was l ir my storyI
On, / was telling you how
We were looking for wintergreen perries'
Twas one bright morning IN May,
And the moss-grown rocks were slippery
With the rains of yesterday.
But l was cross that morning, ~
Though the sun shone ever SO prIsnt-
And when Sister found the most berries'
/ was angry enough TO hght!
And when she laughed at my poutinS-
We were little things. you know
I clinched my little INST up tight.
And struck her the biggest blow.
I struck her-I tell you'll struck her.
And she fell right over below
There. there, Maggie, 1 won't rave row;
You needn't hold me So
She went right over, ! ten you uiow,
Down, down, to the depths peloW'
'Tis deep and dark and horrld
There where the waters flow!
She fell right over, moaning;
Bessie, oh. Bessie! so sad.
That when looked down, aifrlghted'
1t drove me mad-mad!
Only her golden hair streaming
out on the ripping wave,
Only her little hand reaching
Up, for some one to save;
And she sank down in the darkness.
/ never saw her again,
And this world is chaos OF blackness
And darkness and grief since then.
No more playing together
Down on the pebbly strand;
Nor building our dolls stone castles,
With halls and parlors grand;
No more fishing with bent pins
In the little brooks clear waves;
No more holding funerals
Ger dead canaries' graves;
No more walking together
To the log school-house each morn;
No more vexing the master
With putting his rules to scorn;
No more feeding of white lambs
With milk from the foaming pail;
No more playing 'see-saw'
Over the fence of rail:
No more telling of stories
After eve gone 10 Dcu.
Nor talking of ghosts and COLLINS
Till we fairly SILVER with dread;
No more whispering fearfully
And hugging each other tight
When the shutters shake and the dogs
howl
In the middle Of the night;
No more saying "Our Father"
Kneeling by mothers knee
For. Maggie. struck Sister!
And mother is dead. you see.
Maggie, Sisters an angel,
Isn't she? Isn't IL true?
For angels have golden tresses
And eyes like Ssters-blue?
Now. my hair isn't golden.
My eyes aren't blue. you see;
Now tell me, Maggie, IL j were TO die
Could they make an angel of me?
You say. "Oh. yes. you think So"
Well. then. when / come 10 die
Wen play up there in Gods garden,
Wen play there. Sister and |.
Now, Maggie. you needn't eye me
Because I am talking SO queer;
Because am talking so strangely
You needn't have the least fear.
Somehow j am feeling tonight, Maggie,
AS l never felt before
l am sure, am sure of It, Maggie,
/ never shall rave any more.
Maggie, you know how these long years
/ have heard her calling. so sad,
"Bessie, oh. Bessle!' so mournful
II always drives me mad.
How the winter wind shrieks down the
Bessie. OH Bessie. oh. oh.''
How the south wind walls at the case
ment.
"Bessie, OH Bessie" so low.
But most Of all when the Maydays
Come back. with the flowers and the
sun,
How the night-bird singing all lonely,
Bessie. oh. Bessie!' doth moan:
You know how Il sets me raving.
For she moaned. "Oh. Bsssio!' just so.
That time / struck little Sister,
On the May-day long ago,
Now, Maggie I've something to tell you
You know May-day is here
Wen. this very morning. az sunrise.
The robins chirped Bessie" so clear;
All day long the wee birds. singing,
Perched on the garden wall.
Called: Bessie, oh. Bessler' so sweetly.
| couldn't feel sorry at all.
Now. Maggie. I've something to tell you;
Let me lean UP TO you close
| Do you see how the sunset has flooded
The Heavens with yellow and rose?
| Do you see DER the gilded-cloud mount
aims
Sisters golden hair streaming out?
Do you see her little hand reckoning?
DO you hear her little voice calling out:
Bessie. oh. Bessie,' so gladly;
Bessie. OH Bessie! Come. haste?
Yes. Sister. I'm coming: l am coming
To play in Gods garden at last