OLD LETTERS.

Waikato Times, Volume XXVI, Issue 2170, 5 June 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)

OLD LETTERS.

The son beats hotly down on hill and plain, The roses droop their heads at his fierce gaze ; The cool shade of the grove I Beck in vain, There in no coolness in these summer days. Not even my guitar can tempt my fingers, Nor book can charm tho heavy hours away ; The band around the clock-f»ce loiters — linger!", How shall I spend the slowly passing day? ■Gome, mother, we will sit us down and read The cherished letters of tho by-gono years : This casket holds them— here they are indeed, Once read in joy, or once baptised by tears. Thw package is for you ; its yellowed pages Will take you backward to your childhood's prime ; Ajfi while the package all your thought enI turn to letters of a later tune. How pleasant 'tis, and yet how sad— how sad, To rend the letters of old frieuda onco more-— Letters whose coming made our h ?arts so glad — And thon to think this friendship all is o'er ! A friendship pledged for life, yet sudden broken, As snaps on my guitar a fragile string 1 With too great strain upon it; and no token But these few letters left. How frail a thing It friendship ! How the world grows cold As one grows older ! Drop them one by one In the waste-basket ; they no longer hold Their early worth ; the savour is all gone. Tim other package, tied with ribbon white, And a dead rose-bud crushed within its folds, 'This is tho record of a love as bright, As warm, as true, as pure as earth's o'er hold* ! .A withered rose-bud, and ft love now perished ! Perished with many a sigh and bitter ache Of hft»rt ! Why are these letters longer cherished? Burn, letters ; silence, heart, you shall not break.