Cynthia A. DeAvolen

DE AVOLEN
FATHER MOTHER

Photo Credit: Rosa G. Gonzales

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Poem from husband Alonzo

 

TO MRS. A. A. DEAVALON

Full many times and oft, Jane

We wandered side by side,

Before you were my own, Jane

My young and lovely bride.

 

Our hearts were happy then, Jane

Light as a feather light.

Thanks to my stars, my dear Jane,

They’re even so to-night.

 

The flower crowned hills and vales, Jane,

The meadows and gay lawn,

Where you and I together, Jane,

Oft rambled eve and morn.

 

Sometimes beside the lake, Jane,

Where the little fishes played

And ogling looked at us, Jane,

As we sat in the shade.

 

Methinks I see them now, Jane

Upon the surface rise,

Then dart again beneath, Jane

With some unlucky prize.

 

Had he the power to speak, Jane,

Again rehearse the past.

How long you think ‘twould take, Jane

Or that the tale would last.

 

Suppose the same were written, Jane,

Prompted by the hand of love,

‘Twould move the hearts to weep, Jane,

Methinks of those above.

 

The spice of life is love, Jane;

Is not the assertion true,

Behold those curly heads, Jane,

And that will answer you.

 

With little smiling faces, Jane,

And rosy cheeks so fair,

What would you take for one, Jane,

Just price it if you dare.

 

Of by-gone days but think, Jane,

The time when first we met,

Then travel down to now, Jane,

And tell of one regret.

 

Those reminiscences again, Jane,

Of all that passed us by,

Will live within that space, Jane,

As long as you or I.

 

 Green on memory’s page, Jane,

They’ll bloom to you and me,

Our bosoms thrill through life, Jane,

No matter where we be.

 

Yes more than thee, than all, Jane

Why starts that previous tear,

You wrong me now, you do, Jane

To make yourself more dear.

 

Yet more than all ‘itwas while, Jane,

The tear stood in your eye,

You gave your heart and hand, Jane,

And so to you did I.

 

It may be now and then Jane,

A cloud will overcast,

Our hearts for some fond one, Jane,

That lives but in the past.

 

Such is the fate of life, Jane,

‘Tis lotted to us all,

Life has its ups and downs, Jane,

Its summer, spring and fall.

 

And after these comes winter, Jane,

With killing frost and snows,

Which lay us in the grave, Jane,

Where all the past repose.

 

But time has passed and now, Jane,

Our locks are turning gray,

And we are growing old, Jane,

So all the neighbors say.

 

Let not that trouble us, Jane,

As long as life shall last,

We’ll live and love each other Jane,

As all along the past.

 

Nor yet one ray of grief, Jane,

Nor bitter anguish blast,

Our future hope of life, Jane,

Be sunny to the last.

 

Kiss our little Hellen, Jane,

And tell her of her pa,

The same when I return, Jane,

I’ll do for her dear ma.

 

And now my love to you, Jane,

May blessings on you fall,

Upon our curly heads, Jane

Our friends and neighbors all.

 

A. A. DeAvalon

 

Source:  Brownsville Ranchero, July 10, 1868, p. 4, col. 2.

Research by:  Msgr. Michael A. Howell

Transcription by:  Rosa G. Gonzales