232
AFTER LONG YEARS.
The other, the youngest and last of us all, Still lingers, and loves the old place;No sorrow can live in her happy young heart, Nor sweep the bloom out of her face.
I had longed to come back, just to linger awhile In the home of my childhood again;But the joy that I sought wears the draping of woe, And has passed through the valley of pain.And I weep for the faces I never shall see, For the voices I cannot forget;While the mantle of sadness falls over my soul, And remembrance is crowned with regret.
Vicksburg, Miss., 1880.
