A Package of Old Letters

In a little rosewood casket,
That is resting on the stand,
There’s a package of old letters
Written by a cherished hand.
Will you go and bring them, sister,
And read them all tonight?
I have often tried, but could not,
For the tears would blind my sight.

Chorus:
In a little rosewood casket,
That is resting on the stand,
There’s a package of old letters
Written by a cherished hand.

Come up closer to me, sister,
Let me lean upon thy breast,
For the tide of life is ebbing
And I fain would be at rest.
Bring the letters he has written,
He whose voice I’ve often heard;
Read them over, love, distinctly,
For I’ve cherished every word.

Tell him, sister, when you see him,
That I never ceased to love,
That I, dying pray to him
In a better world above.
Tell him that I was supported,
Ne’er a word of censure spoke,
But his silence and his absence
This poor heart has well nigh broke.

Tell him that I watched his coming
When the noontide sun was high,
And when at eve the angels
Set their starlight in the sky.
But when I saw he came not,
Tell him that I did not chide,
But I spoke in love about him,
And I blessed him when I died.

And when death’s white garments
You have wrapped my form around,
And have laid me down to slumber
In the qiuet churchyard ground,
lace the letters and his picture
Close beside my pulseless heart;
We for years have been together,
And in death we will not part.

I am ready now, my sister,
You may read the letters o’er;
I will listen to the words of him
Whom I shall see no more;
And e’re you shall have finished,
Should I calmly fall asleep,
Fall asleep in death and wake not,
Dearest sister, do not weep.

– Sent in by Pearl Goad, Box 115, Alex, Ok.

From the Reverse side of the clipping:

I’ve read, methinks, ten thousand …
that grow quite sleek and stout. The …
with meat and bread; the laggard does …
sung by poets, when the eart was you…
lazy wights, who dared to lie in bed u…
worthless jays. And modern bards, like …
ancient lore; they cling to sayings old. T…
that he must save his precious time if he …
“the bard will say: “Unending toil will …
it.” This wisdom is not lost on me, a …
sages demonstrate it. I can’t know all …
earth was new, nor what will come here …
say that folks should rise at break of day …

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