By Ellen Fessenden Lincoln

The sunshine lingers in the room,
I see it through the window stream;
Kissing the pillow where he lay
His head in many a boyish dream.
But O the change since yesterday,—
The young, strong step that I so miss,
The weary miles now stretching on
Between us and my last fond kiss.
And mine had been a different plan,—
A dream of sheltered nooks and bowers,
Of toil and pleasure hand in hand,
Of home and friends and merry hours.
But he had longed to try the world,
Its hopes, its promises, its cares,
To tempt Dame Fortune’s fickle smile,
And win her to him unawares.
And so, with spirit bold and brave,
He pressed my hand in mute “good-bye,”
And turned aside, lest I should see
The tears that glistened in his eye.
And my poor heart was aching sore,
He might have heard each throb of pain,
My questioning heart, that yearned to know
If I should meet my boy again.
O life is hard! The common lot
And parting wring the anguished heart.
But O how differently we’d choose,
Yet see our fondest hopes depart!
We take the burden we would fain
Lay down, and fold our weary hands,
Praying our loss may be his gain,
Trusting to Him who understands.

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