| |
| IN the best chamber of the house, | |
| Shut up in dim, uncertain light, | |
| There stood an antique chest of drawers, | |
| Of foreign wood, with brasses bright. | |
| One day a woman, frail and gray, | 5 |
| Stepped totteringly across the floor— | |
| “Let in,” said she, “the light of day, | |
| Then, Jean, unlock the bottom drawer.” | |
| |
| The girl, in all her youth’s loveliness, | |
| Knelt down with eager, curious face; | 10 |
| Perchance she dreamt of Indian silks, | |
| Of jewels, and of rare old lace. | |
| But when the summer sunshine fell | |
| Upon the treasures hoarded there, | |
| The tears rushed to her tender eyes, | 15 |
| Her heart was solemn as a prayer. | |
| |
| “Dear Grandmamma,” she softly sighed, | |
| Lifting a withered rose and palm; | |
| But on the elder face was naught | |
| But sweet content and peaceful calm. | 20 |
| Leaning upon her staff, she gazed | |
| Upon a baby’s half-worn shoe; | |
| A little frock of finest lawn; | |
| A hat with tiny bows of blue; | |
| |
| A ball made fifty years ago; | 25 |
| A little glove; a tasselled cap; | |
| A half-done “long division” sum; | |
| Some school-books fastened with a strap. | |
| She touched them all with trembling lips— | |
| “How much,” she said, “the heart can bear! | 30 |
| Ah, Jean! I thought that I should die | |
| The day that first I laid them there. | |
| |
| “But now it seems so good to know | |
| That through these weary, troubled years | |
| Their hearts have been untouched by grief, | 35 |
| Their eyes have been unstained by tears. | |
| Dear Jean, we see with clearer sight | |
| When earthly love is almost o’er; | |
| Those children wait me in the skies, | |
| For whom I locked that sacred drawer.” | 40 |
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