Poetry
ONLY A LITTLE CLOYE.
By Mathias Barr.
It's only a little glove. So ragged, and old, and worn. You scarce would stoop in your daily path To look at the thing forlorn. You never would think by those fingers small A heart could be rent and torn. It's onlv a little thing. This treasure I hoard and keep. But manv a vision of jov it brings. And sometimes it makes me weep.
And I dream a dream of a- fair-hair'd boy *^ Under the flowers asleep.
It's only a little glove. Yet dearer it is to me, For the restless feet that pattered and beat Their music upon my knee. Dearer for sorrow, and care, and pain Than the riches of land or sea.
It's only a tiny thing. Yet I love it with deepest love, A golden link in the chain that bindMy soul to the world above: And I know I am nearer to heaven each time I bow o'er that tiny glove.
Permanent link to this item
https://paperspast.natlib.govt.nz/newspapers/AHCOG19091020.2.3
Bibliographic details
Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 698, 20 October 1909, Page 2
Word Count
165Poetry Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, Issue 698, 20 October 1909, Page 2
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