Puslapio vaizdai
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A DEAD LETTER.

"A cæur blessé-l'ombre et le silence."

H. DE BALZAC.

I.

I DREW it from its china tomb;

It came
With some thin ghost of past perfume

That dust and days had lent it.

An old, old letter,-folded still !

To read with due composure, I sought the sun-lit window-sill,

Above the gray enclosure,

That glimmering in the sultry haze,

Faint-flowered, dimly shaded, Slumbered like Goldsmith's Madam Blaize,

Bedizened and brocaded.

A queer old place! You'd surely say

Some tea-board garden-maker
Had planned it in Dutch William's day

To please some florist Quaker,

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