Two Letters.
Reading edition
BY GEO. W. H. HARRISON.
I wrote a letter while jealous rage In my bosom reigned supreme;
The words were fraught with anger, And a loathsome disesteem.
They fell on the pure white paper And marred its stainless page,
Yet eased my maddened spirit, And appeased my senseless rage.
I gloatingly tho't of the dumb despair That letter would surely give,
To one who had broken her faithful vows In a way I could never forgive.
I doubted not the perfect truth Of all I heard them say;
She, like other girls, was false While her lover was away.
I knew she vowed she would be true While life itself would last,
Yet thought that she, like others, Too soon forgot the past.
I hastily sealed the cruel note, And placed it next my heart,
Determined upon the morrow To give it an early start.
I threw myself upon the couch And sought for sweet repose,
And in my restless slumbers A vision then arose:
I saw in that terrible vision A woman whose eager face
Beamed with yearning, restless love As her trembling fingers traced
A message of love and tenderness To her loved one far away.
As her pure lips quietly murmured, "God grant we must some day!"
She sealed her letter with dainty hands, And laid it by with tender care:
Then humbly kneeled beside her bed, And poured her soul in prayer.
She prayed for her impassioned lover In a warm, impassioned strain,
That proved her heart both warm and true And free from guilt or stain.
She arose from her kneeling posture To answer a call at her door:
She smiled as she saw the letter The hand of the servant bore.
One glance she gave—then burst the seal With trembling, eager haste,
And rapidly heard the cruel words My reckless hand had traced.
Her lovely face turned deathly pale As she wildly clutched the air.
She tottered and fell—a senseless heap— A prey to dumb despair.
So still she lay I deemed her dead, And sprang to raise her in my arms.
I loved her with the old, wild love, And bowed to her peerless charms.
"Speak! darling, speak!" I wildly cried. "Pray, come back from the voiceless shore.
I cannot, dare not live an hour, Unless I hear your voice once more!"
She opened wide her lovely eyes, And cast on me one lingering glance
So full of injured innocence It smote me like a lance.
I seized the heartless letter, Curst cause of all my shame,
And, with one imprecation, Consigned it to the flame.
She watched me with a languid smile, And pointed to her heart:
"You have destroyed the proof," she said, "But can you ease the smart?"
"I have been true to all my vows, Heaven judge me if I lie!
But since you deem me to be false, Go—leave me here—to die!"
At last I woke and quickly drew The accursed sheet from my breast—
Burning it with a ready hand— And gently sank to rest.
I wrote another, whose tender words Were soft as the ripple of a stream;
And thought what a contrast it would be To the letter she read in my dream!
And my darling greatly wonders Why my letters with tenderness teem,
Since I have never told her Of the letter she read in my dream.
