Poems (Becker)/Mollie
MOLLIE.
I SEE, through dimpled finger-bars,
The soft light of those twilight stars;
Then shyly raised those eyes to mine,
Half hidden by the gold hair's shine.
The royal grace of babyhood
Was on my Mary-bud,
My Mollie.
The soft light of those twilight stars;
Then shyly raised those eyes to mine,
Half hidden by the gold hair's shine.
The royal grace of babyhood
Was on my Mary-bud,
My Mollie.
I felt thy arms about my neck,
Thy golden head my bosom deck;
For coaxing kisses, told my store
Of old-time stories o'er and o'er,
And changed sad tales with loving art,
Fearing to grieve thy tender heart,
My Mollie.
Thy golden head my bosom deck;
For coaxing kisses, told my store
Of old-time stories o'er and o'er,
And changed sad tales with loving art,
Fearing to grieve thy tender heart,
My Mollie.
Few pages of life's story turned
Ere yet its sadness thou hadst learned;
Death, pitying, loosed thy gentle hold;
And angel lips the story told
To thee, and left to me
Only a memory
Of Mollie.
Ere yet its sadness thou hadst learned;
Death, pitying, loosed thy gentle hold;
And angel lips the story told
To thee, and left to me
Only a memory
Of Mollie.