A WIFE'S VALENTINE.
121
Tinted over with happiness, softly the glow,Pure pearls in the heart of the long, long-ago.Our childhood—how closely beside me it stands,How firmly the past and the present clasp hands,As memory's pencil is sketching the scene;Thought bridges the years that are lying between.But over the picture a shadow is thrown,That mars its wild beauty—I sit here alone.As one stricken suddenly blind craves the light,My very soul longs for your presence to-night.To lay my head down on your breast as of old,And feel close around me your loving arms fold—Just now, I would give many years of my lifeTo hear your voice whisper: "My darling, my wife."
The little ones kneeling to-night at my knee,Asked God up in heaven that papa might beKept safe from all harm in his far-away home,And that soon, very soon, he would bid us to come.My forehead was bowed on our boy's shining hair,When I lifted my brow there were tears lying there;They come to my lashes whenever I prayFor you, my dear husband, so far, far away.
