In the best chamber of the house, <br />Shut up in dim, uncertain light, <br />There stood an antique chest of drawers, <br />Of foreign wood, with brasses bright. <br />One day a woman, frail and gray, <br />Stepped totteringly across the floor-- <br />'Let in,' said she, 'the light of day, <br />Then, Jean, unlock the bottom drawer. <br /> <br />The girl, in all youth's loveliness, <br />Knelt down with eager, curious face; <br />Perchance she dreamt of Indian silks, <br />Of jewels, and of rare old lace. <br />But when the summer sunshine fell <br />Upon the treasures hoarded there, <br />The tears rushed to her tender eyes, <br />Her heart was solemn as a prayer. <br /> <br />'Dear Grandmamma,' she softly sighed, <br />Lifted a withered rose and palm; <br />But on the elder face was naught <br />But sweet content and peaceful calm. <br />Leaning upon her staff, she gazed <br />Upon a baby's half-worn shoe; <br />A little frock of finest lawn; <br />A hat with tiny bows of blue; <br /> <br />A ball made fifty years ago; <br />A little glove; a tasselled cap; <br />A half-done 'long division' sum; <br />Some school-books fastened with a strap. <br />She touched them all, with trembling lips-- <br />'How much,' she said, 'the heart can bear! <br />Ah, Jean! I thought that I should die <br />The day that first I laid them there. <br /> <br />'But now it seems so good to know <br />That through these weary, troubled years <br />Their hearts have been untouched by grief, <br />Their eyes have been unstained by tears. <br />Dear Jean, we see with clearer sight <br />When earthly life is almost o'er; <br />Those children wait me in the skies, <br />For whom I locked the sacred drawer.'<br /><br />Anonymous Americas<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-bottom-drawer/
