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Show HER LAST VISITOR. Across her sky cf summer dark and slow It stole. Kind heaven never let her know When tito cloud fell, but the last light cs had Left her that day, young, beautiful and mad, A stranded life alone on a strange shore. Till the trreat House of Pity shut her in, And there, as if she was not nor had been, Hope came no more. Only love came, with tender voice and hand, And smile and kiss she scarce could under, stand. And once dear eyes, that now 'unanswered Ucamed VThcn friends lked on her, and as if sh dreamed Their faces shone and faded. Months and yt'ars They mt their lost one in the sad retreat, And fouud her not, and passed with burdened feet And bitter tears. She saw tl cm but as phantoms which all hours Thrust on her brain, and yet they brought her flowers And gentle words, and lavished was it vain? Their unthsnked pity on her unfelt pain Month after month, year after year and then Some fell awjy; the world had 6wept them by, And sorrowing friendship with its lingering sigh Came not again. Her mates found other favorites, some were wives And mothers; into her own sisters' lives Crept care; her brothers turned aside to wed New loves grown dearer than the living dead: And few and fewer of her kindred came Till but two yearning mourners looked and smiled Upon the imprisoned shadow of their child. And breathed her name. Long time the suffering father kept his tryst, But failed at length and staid away, unmissed By her he missed so 6orely. Oh, the balm Of a crazed soul's forgetf ulness, the calm That feels not when forgotten of its ownl The mother bore his load; and, with no mate To share her journeys to th' asylum gate. She went alone. She went alone, v-eek in, week out, alone Summer and winter, till lior blighted one Became her tRte aj;alii, and she grew gray In motherly pilgrimages, nor delay Nor doubt nor danger where her errand led Staid her love's visit, longing to bring home Her child. At last one day she did not come. But she was dead. Theron Brown in Youth's Companion. |