ON A LETTER.
HOW beautiful! how beautiful! the dream comes back again,
As now I draw this treasure forth from where it long hath lain;
In characters, how neatly set, as I again behold,
And read, aye, read, as though thy pen the story just had told,
As though thy hand had lately traced each syllable, each word,
As though thine heart were just as warm, with sweet emotions stirred,
As when thou ours this loving strain to cheer my saddened heart,
And pointed to the only Source which could a balm impart.
As now I draw this treasure forth from where it long hath lain;
In characters, how neatly set, as I again behold,
And read, aye, read, as though thy pen the story just had told,
As though thy hand had lately traced each syllable, each word,
As though thine heart were just as warm, with sweet emotions stirred,
As when thou ours this loving strain to cheer my saddened heart,
And pointed to the only Source which could a balm impart.
The date, the present, answers this our holy Advent time,
When every heart, if tuned aright, must dwell on things sublime,
Reminding ever as it will, to earnestly implore
His pardon for the misspent time, for strength to sin no more;
Its contents still retain a charm, a power so sweet; and yet
The dread uncertainty of joy, which I would fain forget
Intrudes, and blisters every page with an unbidden tear;
Alas, that friendship's purest ties should all be sundered here.
When every heart, if tuned aright, must dwell on things sublime,
Reminding ever as it will, to earnestly implore
His pardon for the misspent time, for strength to sin no more;
Its contents still retain a charm, a power so sweet; and yet
The dread uncertainty of joy, which I would fain forget
Intrudes, and blisters every page with an unbidden tear;
Alas, that friendship's purest ties should all be sundered here.
O, tell me now, thou sainted one, tell me if thou dost wait,
And knowest all I do and say, within yon golden gate?
Tell me if thou dost guide my steps, my trials all dost know?
I pause in this dim wilderness where troubled waters flow;
I am wondering how may I know; the way seems distant, far;
Yet when again I read these lines, descending like a star,
A light so soft, so tender, too, surrounds me like a spell,
Awakening hallowed memories an angel's pen might tell.
And knowest all I do and say, within yon golden gate?
Tell me if thou dost guide my steps, my trials all dost know?
I pause in this dim wilderness where troubled waters flow;
I am wondering how may I know; the way seems distant, far;
Yet when again I read these lines, descending like a star,
A light so soft, so tender, too, surrounds me like a spell,
Awakening hallowed memories an angel's pen might tell.
Yet on I tread the tangled maze, my hope cheered on by love
Of those who oft have joined me here, but now in bowers above
Rejoice, and with a power unknown they bid me live, be strong
To wait, to patiently endure; life cannot suffer long;
A sympathy, e'en while I read, assures me more and more
Our hearts will there united be, upon that peaceful shore;
And thou wilt look, perchance, the same, wilt welcome me again;
How beautiful will be our home when we in bliss shall reign!
Of those who oft have joined me here, but now in bowers above
Rejoice, and with a power unknown they bid me live, be strong
To wait, to patiently endure; life cannot suffer long;
A sympathy, e'en while I read, assures me more and more
Our hearts will there united be, upon that peaceful shore;
And thou wilt look, perchance, the same, wilt welcome me again;
How beautiful will be our home when we in bliss shall reign!