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Poem by Edith Matilda Thomas Born Deaf, Dumb, and Blind (At an Asylum) A flower-soft hand once took my own,-- That touch I never shall forget! A strange voice spoke--so strange a tone Mine ear had never met! It said, "Come--see--my--garden,--Come!" (The flower-soft fingers closer twined): The voice of one born deaf and dumb, The touch of one born blind! They thrilled me so, the tears came fast; But in glad haste she led the way; Through hall and open door we passed Into a garden gay. Her share was but a little space. It bloomed with pansies dark and bright; And each looked up with elfin grace, As though to win her sight. She smiled--the pansy-faces smiled Through tears--or was it morning dew? Down knelt the deaf and dumb, blind child "I do--give--all--to--you!" I could not stay those fingers swift, She plucked me all the flowers she had! I never shall have any gift So sweet as this,--so sad! Edith Matilda Thomas Edith Matilda Thomas's other poems:
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