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Article OLD LETTERS. Page 1 of 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Old Letters.
OLD LETTERS .
AY , better burn them ! what does it avail To treasure the dumb words that never perish ? Like dead leaves tossed before the autumn gale AVill be each written page we cherish , When Time ' s great wind has swept them all away-The smiles , loves , tears , and hatreds of To-day .
Living , we hoard our letters—holding them Sacred and safe as almost sentient things—So strong the yearning tide of grief to stem , So true when Doubt creeps in , or Treason stings . Parting niay smile , such golden bridge between ; Change cannot come where unbought faith has been .
Dying , we leave them to our children's care—Our well-prized solace—records of the time When life lay spread before us , rich and fair , And Love and Hope spoke prophecies sublime-Love sorely gathered through laborious hours , Wit ' s playful flashes—sweet poetic flowers !
All these to us—to us ; and for a ' while Our love will guard the casket where they lie , Glancing them over with a tearful smile , Touching their yellow foldings tenderly—A little while ; but Life and Time are strong , — Our dearest cannot keep such vigils long .
And by-and-by the cold bright eyes of Youth , Lighting on such spare flotsam of the past—The shattered spars of Trust ancl Hope and Truth , On the blank shores of Time ' s great ocean cast—AVill read ancl judge , with naught of soft behoving , Dissecting , sneering , —anything but loving .
So let us burn them all ;—the tottering words The guided baby-fingers wrote us first ; The schoolboy ' s scribble ; lines the man affords To the old eyes that watched , old hands that nursed ; The girl's sweet nonsense ; confidence of friend , — And these , our own , ours only , till the end .
Heap them together—one last , fervent kiss—Then let them turn , ere we do , into dust . Ashes to ashes ! AVell ancl wise it is To meet the end that comes , as come it must , And leave no relics to grow gray and rotten , Waiting the certain doom of the forgotten !
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Old Letters.
OLD LETTERS .
AY , better burn them ! what does it avail To treasure the dumb words that never perish ? Like dead leaves tossed before the autumn gale AVill be each written page we cherish , When Time ' s great wind has swept them all away-The smiles , loves , tears , and hatreds of To-day .
Living , we hoard our letters—holding them Sacred and safe as almost sentient things—So strong the yearning tide of grief to stem , So true when Doubt creeps in , or Treason stings . Parting niay smile , such golden bridge between ; Change cannot come where unbought faith has been .
Dying , we leave them to our children's care—Our well-prized solace—records of the time When life lay spread before us , rich and fair , And Love and Hope spoke prophecies sublime-Love sorely gathered through laborious hours , Wit ' s playful flashes—sweet poetic flowers !
All these to us—to us ; and for a ' while Our love will guard the casket where they lie , Glancing them over with a tearful smile , Touching their yellow foldings tenderly—A little while ; but Life and Time are strong , — Our dearest cannot keep such vigils long .
And by-and-by the cold bright eyes of Youth , Lighting on such spare flotsam of the past—The shattered spars of Trust ancl Hope and Truth , On the blank shores of Time ' s great ocean cast—AVill read ancl judge , with naught of soft behoving , Dissecting , sneering , —anything but loving .
So let us burn them all ;—the tottering words The guided baby-fingers wrote us first ; The schoolboy ' s scribble ; lines the man affords To the old eyes that watched , old hands that nursed ; The girl's sweet nonsense ; confidence of friend , — And these , our own , ours only , till the end .
Heap them together—one last , fervent kiss—Then let them turn , ere we do , into dust . Ashes to ashes ! AVell ancl wise it is To meet the end that comes , as come it must , And leave no relics to grow gray and rotten , Waiting the certain doom of the forgotten !