Classic Poem

I linger late alone to-night while all the household sleep,
And sadly o'er the changeful past does memory backward sweep—
Recalling happy girlhood days that did too swiftly glide,
And ever 'midst their brightest scenes I find thee at my side.
Again in the secluded stream we gambol merrily;
Again we climb the mountain spur where sober she-oaks sigh,
To cull a wealth of wattle bloom, and seek the purple vine
That round the rugged ironbarks in velvet circles twine.
And stay we oft to trace o'erhead the screeching cockatoo
Or, wond'ring, watch the bounding pace of the startled kangaroo.
And, all unheeding flight of time, do farther hillward roam
Until the slanting shadows point toward our distant home.
Then hand in hand, with voices blent a school-learnt song we sing,
Or make the silent mountain gorge with laughing echoes ring;
Thy cheerful, ever-hoping way had e'er a charm for me,
And if, like mortal, thou had faults, I cared not them to see.
What it did suit thy will to do did ever mine behove—
I hated what 'twas thine to hate, and loved what thou didst love;
And when I think that girlish form, with graces never told,
Lay out to-night 'neath wind and rain in Rookwood's greedy fold,
A storm of such deep grief and pain does surging o'er me roll
That e'en I bless the tears that now relieve my troubled soul.
But some will doubtless say such love 'twixt women could not be—
So thou art safe, their unbelief will not discomfort me.
I try to think our Father's will in taking thee is best,
For after all an early grave, dear girl, is early rest.
And if it be, as I suppose, that after Heavenly birth
The spirit freed may share the thoughts of those still bound to earth,
Endowed with higher power to see the workings of each breast,
Then fondly thou'lt enrol me with the few who loved thee best.