BORN DEAF, DUMB, AND BLIND (At an Asylum)
Reading edition
A flower-soft hand once took my own,— That touch I never shall forget! A strange voice spoke—so strange a tone Mine ear had never met! It said, “Come—see—my—garden,—Come!” (The flower-soft fingers closer twined): The voice of one born deaf and dumb, The touch of one born blind! They thrilled me so, the tears came fast; But in glad haste she led the way; Through hall and open door we passed Into a garden gay. Her share was but a little space. It bloomed with pansies dark and bright; And each looked up with elfin grace, As though to win her sight. She smiled—the pansy-faces smiled Through tears—or was it morning dew? Down knelt the deaf and dumb, blind child “I do—give—all—to—you!” I could not stay those fingers swift, She plucked me all the flowers she had! I never shall have any gift So sweet as this,—so sad!