'Twas Summer When We Parted

By Carrie E. Joslin

'Twas summer when we parted, the flow'rs were all in bloom.
    The moon was softly shining on the dear old country home.
Upon the heavy green oak leaves, the dew, like diamonds shone,
    And down the low green valley, came turtledove's deep moan;
While the whippoorwill was singing, the village church bells ringing,
    And the wind was whispering softly through the trees.

His face was pale and troubled, and his blue eyes filled with tears;
    His voice, like low soft music, told of all his doubts and fears;
The hand that clung so fondly to mine, I drew away
    Was trembling, as he turned to go, when I would not let him stay
While the whippoorwill was singing, the village church bells ringing,
    And the wind was whispering softly through the trees.

That parting--it was years ago--time proved his doubts and fears;
    I was false, yet I'd give all, could I recall those years,
'Tis summer, and I stand again at the dear old country home,
    The moon is shining as of yore--but, alas! I am alone;
While the whippoorwill was singing, the village church bells ringing,
    And the wind was whispering softly through the trees.

Bitter tears flow freely as I stand in the moons pale light
    And think of the sorrow and pain I caused, when I hardened my heart that night.
Poor soul! His sorrow over--and I deserve the pain,
    And only live to meet him, where we'll never part again;
Where the angel choir is singing, heav'ns glad bells are ringing,
    And the wind is whispering softly through the trees.

From Grandmother Carrie E. Joslin's scrapbook
Author Unknown circa 1940's