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A Faded Glove

A Faded Glove image
Parent Issue
Day
31
Month
March
Year
1876
Copyright
Public Domain
OCR Text

BY CEtU THAXTER. My little granddaugnter, who fain won UI know Why, folded close in scented satiu fine, keep a relie faded long ago - This pearl-gray, dainty, withered glove of mise. Listen : 111 teil you. It is fifty years Since the fair day I iaid my treasure here. Bnt yesterday to me the time appears ; Ages ago to you, I know. my dear. Upon this palm, now withered as my cheek, Love Iaid hits firet kiss, doubting and afraid ! Oh, swift and strong across me while I spcak Comes niemory of Iove's might, my liitle maid I yet waa so unconseious ! 'Twas a night - Some festal night ; my sisters were above, Not really quite ; but I, cloaked all in white, Waited below, and, fastening my glove, Looked up with srailing ppeech to him who Btood Observing me, eo still and po intent, I wondered somewhat at his quiet mood, Till it flashed ou me what the eilence ineant. Whut oudden fire of dawn my Bky o'erspread ! "What low melodioüs tbunderbroke my calm ! Could I be dreaming that this plorioiis head Was benuing low above my girlish palm? His majeöty of mien proclaimed him king; His lowly geslure eaiU ; " I am your elave ; " Beneath my feet the flrm earlh seenied to swing, Unatable as storm-driven wind snd wave. Ah, beautiful, and terrible and eweet The inatchless moment ! Was it life or death, Or day or night ? For my heart ceased to beat, And hcaven and earth changed in a single breath. And, like a harp some hand oí power doth smite To sudden harmoay, my soul awoke, And, auswering, rote to maten hi8 spirit's height, Whii not a word the mystic silonce broke. 'Twas but an instant. Do#wn the echoing Btair Swept voices, laughter, wafts of melody - My eisterB three, in draperies nght as air ; But like a dream the whole world Beeined to me, j - As, steadying my whirling thoughts, I strove To grasp a truth ao wondrous, ho divine. I Bhiít this haud, this little tinted glove, To keep its secret mine, and only mine. And like an empty show, the brüliant hours Passed by, with beauty, music, pleasure thronged, riiantasmagoria of light and flowers ; But only one delight to me belonged, - One thought, one wieh, one hope, one joy, one fear One dizzy rapture, one star in the sky - The solenin sky that bent to bring God near ; I would have been content that night to die. Ouly a touch upon this ïittle glove, And, to ! tne lofty marvel wbich it wrought ! You wonder; for as yet you know not love, Oh, sweet my child, my lily yet tmsoughl ! The glove is faded, bnt iminortal joy Li ves ín the kiss ; its niemory cannot fade ; And when death's clasp this pale hand shall destroy. j The' sacred glove shall in my grave be laid.

Article

Subjects
Old News
Michigan Argus