罗伯特·威廉·瑟维斯

在这里你会发现她的信诗人罗伯特·威廉·瑟维斯

她的信

“今天晚上我要拿起笔来,这对我来说很难;我可怜的老手指抖得那么厉害,我的手僵硬而迟钝,即使戴上眼镜我也看不清. . . .你几乎不了解你的母亲,孩子;你很少,很少知道。你记得我是多么活泼、多么聪明,多么笔直、整洁、聪明;现在的我疲惫不堪,弯腰驼背,体弱多病,头发花白。我在路的尽头等着,小伙子;我只想在我被召唤走之前再见到我的孩子。”“哦,好吧,我记得你渡过阴森大海的那一天;我的心被撕得粉碎,我是一个小心翼翼的妻子。你说过你会在两年或三年之内回家; But nigh a score of years have gone, and still the years go by. I know it's cruel hard for you, you've bairnies of your own; I know the siller's hard to win, and folks have used you ill: But oh, think of your mother, lad, that's waiting by her lone! And even if you canna come -- just write and say you will." "Aye, even though there's little hope, just promise that you'll try. It's weary, weary waiting, lad; just say you'll come next year. I'm thinking there will be no `next'; I'm thinking soon I'll lie With all the ones I've laid away . . . but oh, the hope will cheer! You know you're all that's left to me, and we are seas apart; But if you'll only say you'll come, then will I hope and pray. I'm waiting by the grave-side, lad; and all that's in my heart Is just to see my boy again before I'm called away."