A Pathetic Appeal, “Write Soon.”
By Fred A. Davis
LONG parting from the hearts we love
Will shadow o’er the brightest face,
And happy they who part and prove
Affection changes not with place. A sad farewell is warmly dear,
But something dearer may be found
To dwell on lips that are sincere,
And lurk in bosoms closely bound. The pressing hand, the steadfast eye,
Are both less earnest than the boon
Which fervently the last fond sigh
Begs in the hopeful words, “Write soon.” “Write soon!” O sweet request of truth,
How tenderly its accents come!
We heard it first in early youth,
When Mother watched us leaving home. And still amid the trumpet joys
That weary us with pomp and show,
We turn from all this busy noise,
To hear this sweeter cadence flow. We part, but carry on our way
Some loved one’s plaintive spirit-tune,
That as we wander seems to say—
Affection lives on faith—“Write soon!”
FRED A. DAVIS.