SITTING here by my desk all day, Hearing the constant click As the messages speed on their way, And the call comes sharp and quick -- Oh, what a varied tale they tell Of joy and hope and fear! The funeral knell and the marriage bell In their steady tick I hear. "@3Mother is dying; come at once.@1" And the tears will almost start, For tender daughters and loving sons -- God pity each aching heart! Ah! how the haunting memories press Back to the mind once more, Of the mother's unfailing tenderness, That is now forever o'er. "@3I am well; will come to-night@1." How bright some eyes will glow All day long with a happy light As they watch the moments go. "@3Have had no letters; is something wrong?@1" Some heart is sad to-day, Counting the hours that seem so long For the sake of one away. "@3Arthur Ross, by accident killed; Tell his mother, am coming home.@1" Alas for the home with such sorrow filled, When the bitter tidings come! "@3Alice is better; gaining fast.@1" And hearts that have been bowed Under their weight of fear, at last Shall lose their weary load. So over the wires the tidings speed, Bitter and grave and gay; Some hearts shall beat, and some shall bleed, For the tale they have to say. As I sit all day by my desk alone I hear the stream go by, And catch the wires' changeful tone, With a smile and then a sigh. |