A Last Look.

Waikato Times, Volume XXII, Issue 1818, 1 March 1884, Page 2 (Supplement)

A Last Look.

By G. E. Sims. I heard him Joe, I heard him — I heard the doctor say My sight was growing weaker, And failing day by day. " She's going blind," he whispered ; Yes, darling, it is true : These eyes will soon have taken Their last long look at you. The room is dull and misty, Aad as I try to gaze There seems to fall between us A thick and cruel haze I'm going blind, my darling ; Ah 1 soon the day must be When these poor eyes will open, And vainly try to see. Oh, take my hand, my husband, To lead me to the light, And let your dear face linger - The last thing in my sight — That so I may remember, When darkness covers all, 'Twas there I last saw, softly, God's blessed sunshine fall. Cheer up, my dear old sweetheart, And brush away your tears, The look I see to-day, love, Will linger through the yeais. For when the veil has fallen, To hide you evermore, I want your smile to light me Along the gloomy shore. I yet can see you darling — Some light there lingers still ; The sun is setting slowly Behind the distant hill ; Odd fancies crowd about me Now God has let me know My eyes must close forever On all things here below. Though twenty years have vanished, It seems but yestere'en Since first you wooed and won me Among the meadows green ; Here from our cottage window I once could see the spot, Where grew the yellow cowslip, And blue forget-me-not. But now a strange mist hovers, And though I strain my eyes, Beyond my yearning glances The dear old meadow lies. I want to see it, darling, The meadow by the stream, Where first your loving whisper, Fulfilled my girlhood's dream. So take my hand and guide me, And lead me to the air — I want to see the world, love, That God has made so fair. I want to see the sunset, And look upon the sky, And bid the sweet, green country A loving, last good-bye ! How swift the sun is setting ! It's almost twilight now ; I hear, but cannot see, dear, The birds upon the bough. Is this our little garden ? I cannot pierce the gloom, But I can smell the roses — They're coming into bloom. Stoop down and pluck a rosebud — You know my fav'rite tree ; My husband's hand will give me The last one I shall see. Ah, Joe, do you remember The dear old happy days — Our love among the roses In summer's golden blaze ? I take the rose you give me, Its petals damp with dew ; I scent its fragrant odor, But scarce can see its hue. In memory of to-night, Joe, When dead I'll keep it still ; The rose may fade and wither — Our love, dear, never will. Quick 1 Quiok 1 my footsteps falter ; Oh, take me in again ; I cannot bear the air, Joe, My poor eyes feel the strain. Home, home, and bring my children, And place them at my knee, And let me look upon them While yet I've time to see. Then take them gently from me, And let us be alone : My last fond look, dear husband, Must be for you alone. You've been my dear old sweetheart Since we were lass and lad : I've laughed when you were merry, And, wept when you -were sad. I want to see you wearing Your old sweet smile to-night. I want to take it with me To make my darknesE light. God bless you, Joe, for trying — Yes, that's the dear old look 1 I'll think of that sweet story When God has closed the book. Joe, fetch me down the picture That hangs beside our bed. Ah, love, do you remember The day that he lay dead ? Our first-born bonny baby — And how we sat and cried, And thought our hearts were broken When our sweet darling died? y^* I'd like to see tfee picture jOnce more, dear, while I injC * Though in my heart it linsjerg ' , As though 'twere yestejg[ a w Ah I miriybaimscam^fkj But too 3 w6rt Ujtffto, him! Come o'oqer to wx&i&Aka , Cb 2sMloSt^o-, and hold me, a^Rna^ess your face to mine. jwnjjn a land of shadows; -V J> Where ne'er a light oan^hine.

But with your arm around me, What danger need I fear ? I'll never need my eyes, Joe, While your strong arm h near. Now, be a brave old ilailiug, And promise noc to fret ; I saw your face tha last, dear, And now I've no regret. I saw your fac? thf last, dear — God's hand has dealt the blow; My iiijhf went tut at biumt A hhort half-hour ago. Now you must ba my eyesight, ' Through all the sunless land, And down life's hill we'll wander, Like lover's hand in hand. Till God shall lift the curtain Beyond the-e 1 calms of pain ; And there, where blind eyea open, I'll see your face again.