The Window Just Over The Street
I Rit in my norrow, a-wenry, nlone ; 1 havo DOthükg fiweet lo hopo or remember, For the Spring o' the year nnd of life haa iiown ; ! Tia the wildest niffht 'o the wild December. Aud dark iu my spirit nnd dark iu luy i-lmniber. I eit and I list to stops in the street, Goingand coming-, and coming and froinf?, And the winda aa my shutters they biow and beat; Tia the middle oi night nnd the clouds are suowing: And the winüs :ire bitterly beating and blowiug. List lo the steps ns they como and go. And lint to the Winds that are and blowing And my heart inkssolow, solow; KosLepis stayed from me by the snowinpf% Nor slayed by the winds so bitterly blowing. I think of the ships that nre out at sea, Of the wheels in the cold, black waters retnrning ; Not one of the ships bearuth news lo me, And my hend is sick. and my heart is yearning, As I think of the wheels in the black wattas turning. Of the mother I think, by her sick baby's bed, Away ín her rabin hs loiffitiomG and dreary, And liltle and low EU the lUx-breaker's slied : Of her patienee, so sweet, Bttd hei silence so weary, With cries of tlie hungry wolf hid in the prairie. I think of all things in the worM that are sad ; Of children in homesick and comfortlosis plnees ; Of priaons, of dungeuns, of men that ure mad ; Of wickcl, unwomuüy liglit in the faces Of wuinon thiit fortune has wronged wfth disgraecs. I think of H detUT little snn-lighted hand, That ca me where no Imiidbf uu all euuM deliver; And erazed wilh thecrueieet pain went to bed Where the sheets were the ioam fretted wavesof the i iver ; Poor darling ! may God in his mcrey forgive her. The footsteps grow faint and more faint in the snow; 1 put back the ourtain in very dasiHuriug ; The innstfl creak and gWKD na the winde romp and go; And liip ight in thelilithouseall wierdlyisñaríng-; But what glory is this, in tlic gloom of despairiug I I ece at the window jnat over thr streef", A maid in the lnrap light her love letter reading. Her red raouth is smilmg, her ntws is so sweel ; And the heart m my bosom is cured of lts bleeding, As I look on the maiden her love letter rcading. She hfia flniehed the letter, nnd Joldinp it, kisses, And hides ita seeiet too BHCreÜtoknoW; And now in the lieaiih light she softly undresses : A Titfton of proee in tfie rowHte glov, I see her unbiudinjf the braids of lier tresses. And now as she stoops to the ribbon that faRtens Her slippers, tby tumbleo'cr shouldei' and taee; And now as she patters in bare feet, ehv luwteus To Kftther them up in a fillet of lace; And now she is gbne, but in fancy I trace- The lavendercd linen updravn, the round arm Hlf stink to the Ipoúnterpane'g hmidtied roteS, Reavintr the exquisitn uUtlïtu oi i'orm. A Wiflowy wonder bf giace that reposes Beneatü the white counteipane, neecy with rOM, I see the small hand lyins ovor tlie hert, Wherc the passionnte dreaHis are so swectín tlieir The fair little fingi-s they tremble nd part. As part to the warm waves thp heavei of tlie lilv And they play with her ahihI like the Wawc -vith tbe lily. In white fleeey flowerf, the qtieen o' the flotrers ' Wbat to her is the wurld with its bad, bitter wenlher? " Wide she oppns her -ah, hrr world is not onis I And now úu Las closed tliem aud clasped them toirc-ther - What to fier is cur world, with its clouds and rouirh weathei .' Hark ! raMnight ! the wisás AhA the snows Mow and beat; I drop down the cnrtnin and say to ray aorrow, Thank God for the window just over the utree) ; Thank God there is alwaya a ight whence to borïow, When darkness ia darkest, and Sorrow, most Sorrow.
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Subjects
Old News
Michigan Argus