The Poetry Corner

My Old Sweetheart

By Joseph Horatio Chant

My old sweetheart is away to-day; I feel as I did of old, In my courting days, when far away I yearned for her more than gold. I thought of her handsome, smiling face, Her noble and cultured brow, Of her gentle ways, and charming grace; I missed her less then than now. Through the long years of our wedded life, Now nearly a full two score, She has proved herself a loving wife, And a sweetheart evermore. Our love has grown with the flight of time, As the mountain stream may grow; Or as a tree in a genial clime When free from the frost and snow. The tempest may madly rage without, We have lasting peace within; And confidence ne'er gives place to doubt, Nor concord to noisy din. She will soon return again to me, From her visit in the West, And the dear face that I long to see Will be nestling on my breast. And I will feel as in olden time, With a love not dreamed of then; No happier man in any clime Is known to the sons of men. And when we part at the silent tomb, 'Twill be but a passing day Before we meet where there is no gloom, And sweethearts forever stay. Full forty-six years of wedded life, Enjoyed with my sweetheart here; They were happy years, devoid of strife, And full of Christian cheer; Then her Master called her spirit home, And I am left to walk alone. Ere long my journey, too, will end, And my spirit to God arise; Perhaps he may my sweetheart send To escort me to the skies; And there with our Saviour we shall be, Yet sweethearts still through eternity.