Up in the garret one rainy day,
Where the rafters were hung with the cobwebs gray,
Where the dust lay thick on chest and board,
Where the wind up great wide chimneys roared,
I came to think awhile.
Round about the room in a row,
Were chests of treasures of long ago:
Quaint old fans of sandal-wood,
Silks that alone in their glory stood,
On some day long passed by.
India muslins fine and old,
Costly lace as yellow as gold,
Satin with its silvery sheen,
Strings of pearls fit for a queen,
Carefully stored away.
Into my fancy a picture came,
Of royal knight, of stately dame,
Of laughing eyes, of glossy curls
Fastened back with these strings of pearls,
Some by-gone Christmas eve.
I closed the chest-lid with a sigh,
And hung the key on a rafter nigh,
For many a Christmas eve had gone,
Passed had many a Christmas morn,
While they slept under the snow.
Resting there, for their work was done,
Of deeds, of words, and honor won;
Those in memory will stay,
Though lord and lady have passed away,
And treasures fall to dust.
I opened another chest to find
Packs of letters with ribbons twined,
Some of the ribbons were bright and gay,
Others were black and seemed to say,
Sad news was with them bound.
One letter writ in a manly hand,
Came over the sea from a foreign land,
Telling when the ship should sail;
But the vessel sank in a fearful gale
And the sailor came no more.
I started, for the tears fell fast
O'er this reminder of the past,
But softly speaking in my ear
An angel's voice I seemed to hear,
And this it said to me:
"Weep not for a past which is over and gone,
The friends whose memory you mourn
Safe through the storms of life's rough sea
By the dear Christ's side are awaiting thee,
Soon shalt thou meet them there."
The dusky garret with peace was filled,
The pattering rain on the roof was stilled,
The sunbeams flickering through the room,
Came like light from my Father's home,
Or a smile from loved ones gone.