THE STORY OF A LIFE.
The calm, kind voice of strangers , Chanted ft funeral strain ; And the curiout looked at her baby With a touch of pitying pain. Then glanced at the charity coffin And the dusky Creole face, Where sorrow h«»d written its story Over the Hues of grace. (pfNot one of them knew that morning How a planter, old and gray, Had longed for his beautiful daughter Who had wandered so far away ; Nor how in his Parish mansion, H« had dreamed, that solemn night, ' Of hearing again, in the silence, The sound of her footsteps light. None knew, in their human blindness, That with her who was lying dead The light and the music forever jFrom his splendid home had fled ; - They said she was only a pauper, Who had died with never a friend, And read of her strange life story Only the pitiful end. As if we could know a life history Just from a single line ; Or see, in the midst of the shadows, Life's ultimate happiness shine ; And yet we judge one another At a glanea, with a smile or a tear, Forgeting that many a chapter Is hidden too deep to appear.
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https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/WT18861106.2.32.2
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Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2236, 6 November 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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200THE STORY OF A LIFE. Waikato Times, Volume XXVII, Issue 2236, 6 November 1886, Page 1 (Supplement)
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