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Title: An Old Sweetheart of Mine Author: Riley, James Whitcomb, 1849-1916 Language: English As this book started as an ASCII text book there are no pictures available. Copyright Status: Not copyrighted in the United States. If you live elsewhere check the laws of your country before downloading this ebook. See comments about copyright issues at end of book. *** Start of this Doctrine Publishing Corporation Digital Book "An Old Sweetheart of Mine" *** This book is indexed by ISYS Web Indexing system to allow the reader find any word or number within the document. An Old Sweetheart of Mine James Whitcomb Riley Drawings by Howard Chandler Christy Decorations by Virginia Keep The Bobbs-Merrill Company Publishers Indianapolis Copyright, 1888-1899-1902 James Whitcomb Riley Copyright, 1902 The Bowen-Merrill Company An Old Sweetheart of Mine INSCRIBED To GEORGE C. HITT The beginning of whose steadfast friendship was marked by the first publication of these verses which now, expanded by writer, honored by publisher and masterfully graced by artist, seem to be a worthier symbol of the author's grateful and affectionate regard for his earliest friend List of Illustrations I Frontispiece--An Old Sweetheart of Mine. II A fair, illusive vision that would vanish into air III The _then_ of changeless sunny days--The _now_ of shower and shine IV The old bookshelves and prints along the wall V I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine VI Its fate with my tobacco and to vanish with the smoke VII When my truant fancies wander with that old sweetheart of mine VIII The voices of my children and the mother as she sings IX For I find an extra flavor in Memory's mellow wine X O childhood days enchanted! O the magic of the spring XI To--smile, behind my lesson, at that old sweetheart of mine XII A face of lily-beauty, with a form of airy grace XIII When first I kissed her, and she answered the caress XIV I slipped the apple in it--and the teacher didn't know XV She gave me her _photograph_, and printed "Ever Thine" XVI And again I feel the pressure of her slender little hand XVII Where the vines were ever fruited, and the weather ever fine XVIII And she my faithful sweetheart till the golden hair was gray XIX The door is softly opened, and--my wife is standing there _The ordered intermingling_ _of the real and the dream,--_ _The mill above the river,_ _and the mist above the stream;_ _The life of ceaseless labor,_ _brave with song and cheery call--_ _The radiant skies of evening,_ _with its rainbow o'er us all._ AN OLD SWEETHEART OF MINE!--Is this her presence here with me, Or but a vain creation of a lover's memory? A fair, illusive vision that would vanish into air Dared I even touch the silence with the whisper of a prayer? [Illustration] Nay, let me then believe in all the blended false and true-- The semblance of the _old_ love and the substance of the _new_,-- The _then_ of changeless sunny days-- the _now_ of shower and shine-- But Love forever smiling,-- as that old sweetheart of mine. [Illustration] This ever-restful sense of _home_, though shouts ring in the hall.-- The easy-chair--the old bookshelves and prints along the wall; The rare _Habanas_ in their box, or gaunt churchwarden-stem That often wags, above the jar, derisively at them. [Illustration] As one who cons at evening o'er an album, all alone, And muses on the faces of the friends that he has known, So I turn the leaves of Fancy, till, in shadowy design, I find the smiling features of an old sweetheart of mine. [Illustration] The lamplight seems to glimmer with a flicker of surprise, As I turn it low--to rest me of the dazzle in my eyes, And light my pipe in silence, save a sigh that seems to yoke Its fate with my tobacco and to vanish with the smoke. [Illustration] 'Tis a _fragrant_ retrospection,-- for the loving thoughts that start Into being are like perfume from the blossom of the heart; And to dream the old dreams over is a luxury divine-- When my truant fancies wander with that old sweetheart of mine. [Illustration] Though I hear beneath my study, like a fluttering of wings, The voices of my children and the mother as she sings-- I feel no twinge of conscience to deny me any theme When Care has cast her anchor In the harbor of a dream-- [Illustration] In fact, to speak in earnest, I believe it adds a charm To spice the good a trifle with a little dust of harm,-- For I find an extra flavor in Memory's mellow wine That makes me drink the deeper to that old sweetheart of mine. [Illustration] O Childhood-days enchanted! O the magic of the Spring!-- With all green boughs to blossom white, and all bluebirds to sing! When all the air, to toss and quaff, made life a jubilee And changed the children's song and laugh to shrieks of ecstasy. [Illustration] With eyes half closed in clouds that ooze from lips that taste, as well, The peppermint and cinnamon, I hear the old School-bell, And from "Recess" romp in again from "Blackman's" broken line, To--smile, behind my "lesson", at that old sweetheart of mine. [Illustration] A face of lily-beauty, with a form of airy grace, Floats out of my tobacco as the "Genii" from the vase And I thrill beneath the glances of a pair of azure eyes As glowing as the summer and as tender as the skies. [Illustration] I can see the pink sunbonnet and the little, checkered dress She wore when first I kissed her and she answered the caress With the written declaration that, "As surely as the vine Grew 'round the stump," she loved me-- that old sweetheart of mine. [Illustration] Again I make her presents, in a really helpless way,-- The big "Rhode Island Greening"-- (I was hungry too, that day!)-- But I follow her from Spelling, with her hand behind her--so-- And I slip the apple in it-- and the Teacher doesn't know! [Illustration] I give my _treasures_ to her--all,-- my pencil--blue-and-red;-- And, if little girls played marbles, _mine_ should all be _hers_, instead!-- But _she_ gave me her _photograph_, and printed "Ever Thine" Across the back--in blue-and-red-- that old sweetheart of mine! [Illustration] And again I feel the pressure of her slender little hand, As we used to talk together of the future we had planned,-- When I should be a poet, and with nothing else to do But write the tender verses that she set the music to.... [Illustration] When we should live together in a cozy little cot Hid in a nest of roses, with a fairy garden-spot, Where the vines were ever fruited and the weather ever fine, And the birds were ever singing for that old sweetheart of mine.... [Illustration] When I should be her lover forever and a day, And she my faithful sweetheart till the golden hair was gray; And we should be so happy that when either's lips were dumb They would not smile in Heaven till the other's kiss had come. [Illustration] But, ah! my dream is broken by a step upon the stair, And the door is softly opened, and--my wife is standing there: Yet with eagerness and rapture all my visions I resign,-- To greet the _living_ presence of that old sweetheart of mine. 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