On her cheek an autumn flush Deeply ripened ;— such a blush In the midst of brown was born, Like red poppies grown with corn.
Round her eyes her tresses fell,-
Which were blackest none could tell ;
But long lashes veiled a light
That had else been all too bright.
And her hat, with shady brim, Made her tressy forehead dim ; Thus she stood amid the stooks, Praising God with sweetest looks.
Sure, I said, Heaven did not mean
Where I reap thou shouldst but glean;
Lay thy sheaf adown and come,
Share my harvest and my home.
SHE dwelt among the untrodden ways
Beside the springs of Dove;
A maid whom there were none to praise,
And very few to love.
A violet by a mossy stone
Half hidden from the eye!
- Fair as a star, when only one Is shining in the sky.
She lived unknown, and few could know
When Lucy ceased to be;
But she is in her grave, and O,
The difference to me!
TO THE HIGHLAND GIRL OF INVERSNAID.
SWEET Highland Girl, a very shower
Of beauty is thy earthly dower!
Twice seven consenting years have shed
Their utmost bounty on thy head;
And these gray rocks, this household lawn,
These trees, -a veil just half withdrawn,
This fall of water that doth make
A murmur near the silent lake,
This little bay, a quiet road
That holds in shelter thy abode ;
In truth together ye do seem
Like something fashioned in a dream;
Such forms as from their covert peep
When earthly cares are laid asleep!
But O fair Creature! in the light
Of common day so heavenly bright,
I bless thee, Vision as thou art,
I bless thee with a human heart :
God shield thee to thy latest years!
I neither know thee nor thy peers;
And yet my eyes are filled with tears.
With earnest feeling I shall pray
For thee when I am far away;
For never saw I mien or face
In which more plainly I could trace
Benignity and home-bred sense
Ripening in perfect innocence.
Here scattered like a random seed,
Remote from men, thou dost not need
The embarrassed look of shy distress,
And maidenly shamefacedness :
Thou wear'st upon thy forehead clear
The freedom of a mountaineer;
A face with gladness overspread,
Soft smiles, by human kindness bred ;
And seemliness complete, that sways
Thy courtesies, about thee plays ;
With no restraint, but such as springs
From quick and eager visitings
Of thoughts that lie beyond the reach
Of thy few words of English speech,
A bondage sweetly brooked, a strife
That gives thy gestures grace and life!
So have I, not unmoved in mind,
Seen birds of tempest-loving kind,
Thus beating up against the wind.
What hand but would a garland cull
For thee who art so beautiful?
O happy pleasure! here to dwell
Beside thee in some heathy dell;
Adopt your homely ways and dress,
A shepherd, thou a shepherdess !
But I could frame a wish for thee
More like a grave reality:
Thou art to me but as a wave
Of the wild sea; and I would have
Some claim upon thee, if I could,
Though but of common neighborhood.
What joy to hear thee, and to see!
Thy elder brother I would be,
Thy father, anything to thee.
Now thanks to Heaven! that of its grace
Hath led me to this lonely place;
Joy have I had; and going hence
I bear away my recompense.
In spots like these it is we prize
Our Memory, feel that she hath eyes:
Then why should I be loath to stir?
I feel this place was made for her ;
Who over the fire, when all is still, Comb out their braids and curls.
Robe of satin and Brussels lace, Knots of flowers and ribbons, too, Scattered about in every place,
For the revel is through.
And Maud and Madge in robes of white, The prettiest nightgowns under the sun, Stockingless, slipperless, sit in the night, For the revel is done,
Sit and comb their beautiful hair,
Those wonderful waves of brown and gold, Till the fire is out in the chamber there, And the little bare feet are cold.
Then out of the gathering winter chill,
All out of the bitter St. Agnes weather, While the fire is out and the house is still, Maud and Madge together,
Maud and Madge in robes of white,
The prettiest nightgowns under the sun, Curtained away from the chilly night, After the revel is done,
Float along in a splendid dream,
To a golden gittern's tinkling tune,
While a thousand lusters shimmering stream
In a palace's grand saloon.
Flashing of jewels and flutter of laces,
Tropical odors sweeter than musk,
Men and women with beautiful faces,
And eyes of tropical dusk,
And one face shining out like a star,
One face haunting the dreams of each, And one voice, sweeter than others are, Breaking into silvery speech,
Telling, through lips of bearded bloom,
An old, old story over again,
As down the royal bannered room,
To the golden gittern's strain,
Two and two, they dreamily walk,
While an unseen spirit walks beside,
And all unheard in the lovers' talk.
He claimeth one for a bride.
O Maud and Madge, dream on together, With never a pang of jealous fear! For, ere the bitter St. Agnes weather Shall whiten another year,
Robed for the bridal, and robed for the tomb, Braided brown hair and golden tress,
There'll be only one of you left for the bloom Of the bearded lips to press,
Only one for the bridal pearls,
The robe of satin and Brussels lace, Only one to blush through her curls At the sight of a lover's face.
O beautiful Madge, in your bridal white,
For you the revel has just begun ;
But for her who sleeps in your arms to-night
The revel of Life is done!
But, robed and crowned with your saintly bliss,
Queen of heaven and bride of the sun,
O beautiful Maud, you 'll never miss
The kisses another hath won!
I'm in love with neighbor Nelly,
Though I know she's only ten,
While, alas! I'm eight-and-forty
And the marriedest of men !
I've a wife who weighs me double,
I've three daughters all with beaux :
I've a son with noble whiskers,
Who at me turns up his nose.
Though a square-toes, and a fogey, Still I've sunshine in my heart; Still I'm fond of cakes and marbles, Can appreciate a tart.
I can love my neighbor Nelly
Just as though I were a boy:
I could hand her nuts and apples
From my depths of corduroy.
She is tall, and growing taller,
She is vigorous of limb ;
(You should see her play at cricket,
With her little brother Jim.)
She has eyes as blue as damsons,
She has pounds of auburn curls,
She regrets the game of leap-frog
Is prohibited to girls.
I adore my neighbor Nelly,
I invite her in to tea;
And I let her nurse the baby,
All her pretty ways to see.
Such a darling bud of woman,
Yet remote from any teens,
I have learnt from neighbor Nelly
What the girl's doll-instinct means.
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