“’God bless you, Paul, may be ’tis
best—
I sometimes feel it is not for the best,
But I am selfish—thinking of myself.
Go like a man, but keep your boyish heart—
Your boyish heart is all the world to me.
Remember, Paul, how I shall watch and wait;
So write me often: like the dew of heaven
To withering grass will come your cheering words.
To know that you are well and happy, Paul,
And good and true, will wing the weary months.
And let me beg you as a sister would—
Not that I doubt you but because I love—
Beware of wine—touch not the treacherous
cup,
And guard your honor as you guard your life.
The years will glide away like scudding clouds
That fleetly chase each other o’er the hills,
And you will be a man before you know,
And I will be a woman. God will crown
Our dearest hopes if we but trust in Him.’
“We sat in silence for a little time,
And she was weeping, so I raised her face
And kissed away her tears. She softly said:
’Paul, there is something I must say to you—
Something I have no time to tell you now;
But we must meet again before you go—
Under the pines where we so oft have met.
Be this the sign,’—She waved her
graceful hand,
’Come when the shadows gather on the pines,
And silent stars stand sentinel in heaven;
Now Paul, forgive me—I must say—good-bye.’
“I read her fear upon her anxious brow.
Lingering and clasped within her loving arms
I, through her dewy, deep, blue eyes, beheld
Her inmost soul, and knew that love was there.
Ah, then and there her father blustered in,
And caught us blushing in each other’s arms!
He stood a moment silent and amazed:
Then kindling wrath distorted all his face,
He showered his anger with a tongue of fire.
O cruel words that stung my boyish pride!
O dagger words that stabbed my very soul!
I strove, but fury mastered—up I sprang,
And felt a giant as I stood before him.
My breath was hot with anger;—impious boy—
Frenzied—forgetful of his silvered hairs—
Forgetful of her presence, too, I raved,
And poured a madman’s curses on his head.
A moan of anguish brought me to myself;
I turned and saw her sad, imploring face,
And tears that quenched the wild fire in my heart.
I pressed her hand and passed into the hall,
While she stood sobbing in a flood of tears,
And he stood choked with anger and amazed.
But as I passed the ivied porch he came
With bated breath and muttered in my ear—
’Beggar!’—It stung me
like a serpent’s fang.
Pride-pricked and muttering like a maniac,
I almost flew the street and hurried home
To vent my anger to the silent elms.
’Beggar!’—an hundred
times that long, mad night
I muttered with hot lips and burning breath;
I paced the walk with hurried tread, and raved;
I threw myself beneath the willow-tree,