Page:All quiet along the Potomac and other poems.djvu/139

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"You and I, Deacon Story, are childless old folks, And the work of our hands has been blest ;

Poor Dominie Day in his body and mind Very sadly needs comfort and rest."

Dame Story s old face brighter grew as she spoke, With her tremulous hand on his knee :

"For the Lord s sake and mine, Deacon John, And for Mary s."

He answered, " We ll see."

��In the shadow of sunset sat Dominie Day In his study. His gray head was laid

Despairingly down on the desk where he wrote, And he said now and then, "I m afraid.

"Yes, afraid of the waves, that they will overflow;

Sore afraid for this wearied-out brain; Afraid of the poverty coming so close.

God help that I may not complain !"

Then he took up his cross, as a pilgrim might do On the road to the mountains of glory,

When just at his side stood the minister s wife With a missive. Twas from Deacon Story.

They read it quite through, and they spoke not a word,

Tho it gave to them comfort and rest ; A homestead for ever, a holiday month,

A competence humble but blest.


�� �