It was cold in Grandma's attic:

Like the chill of her last rest -

How I loved her! - and her dying

Left me sad, alone, depressed -

 

And the key that she left for me

To her wooden, japanned, chest

Now unlocked what was my portion:

Now, could my soul find its rest?....

 

In that chest, a vast profusion

Of many a gorgeous evening gown,

And the silken threads of wraps, laced

With the purest eider-down........

 

Oh! the fabrics and the colours

Fairly stole my breath away -

Soft and shimmering, and their radiance

Spoke of glorious yesterday -

 

And a bundle of love letters,

Tied up in a satin bow:

Parchment crinkly, precious, fragile

Sighed for loves of long ago -

 

At the bottom was a letter,

And it was addressed to me:

Scarcely breathing, I beheld it,

Sensing vast tranquility....

 

I shan't tell you all its content,

For she would not wish me to,

But this extract I'll present, as

I believe she'd have me do...

 

"Dearest grandchild, oh! remember

How my love for you is wrapped

In these treasures; life and death are

Very closely overlapped..............

 

Take, then, life in all its fullness -

Clasp it gladly in your hand:

And recall: I'll always love you

From a lovely, far-off land"

 

 

And the attic was no longer

Cold, and saddest place to be:

Silken threads, stronger than iron,

Hold my Grandma close to me..................