Poems (Odom)/The Picture on the Wall
THE PICTURE ON THE WALL.
Just between the curtained windows Where the shadows softly fall,Leaving there a touch of sadness, Hangs a picture on the wall—Our sainted father's picture, Hanging there upon the wall.
And the curtains as they waver In the breeze, and half unfold,Letting sunlight on the picture, Lay a band of purest gold.Make the dear eyes beam upon us— Beam and sparkle as of old.
Softly on the noble forehead Lies the shining silver hair,As though the light of heaven had A moment rested there—Like a gleaming saintly halo, Just an instant lingered there.
But the hot and bitter tear-drops From our orphaned hearts arise,When the picture looks upon us With such tender, loving eyes—For Death has laid his fingers Coldly on those loving eyes.
How we linger there before it As our tears in silence fall,While the curtains waver sadly, And the shadows, like a pall,Fall about our father's picture As it hangs upon the wall.