Volume Ii Part 128 (1/2)

Then he forsook her one sad morn; She wept and sobbed, ”Oh, love, come back!”

There only came to her forlorn b.u.t.terflies all black.

John Davidson [1857-1909]

UNSEEN SPIRITS

The shadows lay along Broadway, 'Twas near the twilight-tide, And slowly there a lady fair Was walking in her pride.

Alone walked she; but, viewlessly, Walked spirits at her side.

Peace charmed the street beneath her feet, And Honor charmed the air; And all astir looked kind on her, And called her good as fair,-- For all G.o.d ever gave to her She kept with chary care.

She kept with care her beauties rare From lovers warm and true, For her heart was cold to all but gold, And the rich came not to woo-- But honored well are charms to sell If priests the selling do.

Now walking there was one more fair-- A slight girl, lily-pale; And she had unseen company To make the spirit quail: 'Twixt Want and Scorn she walked forlorn, And nothing could avail.

No mercy now can clear her brow For this world's peace to pray; For, as love's wild prayer dissolved in air, Her woman's heart gave way!-- But the sin forgiven by Christ in heaven By man is cursed alway!

Nathaniel Parker Willis [1806-1867]

”GRANDMITHER, THINK NOT I FORGET”

Grandmither, think not I forget, when I come back to town, An' wander the old ways again, an' tread them up and down.

I never smell the clover bloom, nor see the swallows pa.s.s, Without I mind how good ye were unto a little la.s.s.

I never hear the winter rain a-pelting all night through, Without I think and mind me of how cold it falls on you.

And if I come not often to your bed beneath the thyme, Mayhap 'tis that I'd change wi' ye, and gie my bed for thine, Would like to sleep in thine.

I never hear the summer winds among the roses blow, Without I wonder why it was ye loved the la.s.sie so.

Ye gave me cakes and lollipops and pretty toys a store,-- I never thought I should come back and ask ye now for more.

Grandmither, gie me your still, white hands, that lie upon your breast, For mine do beat the dark all night, and never find me rest; They grope among the shadows, an' they beat the cold black air, They go seekin' in the darkness, an' they never find him there, They never find him there.

Grandmither, gie me your sightless eyes, that I may never see His own a-burnin' full o' love that must not s.h.i.+ne for me.

Grandmither, gie me your peaceful lips, white as the kirkyard snow, For mine be tremblin' wi' the wish that he must never know.

Grandmither, gie me your clay-stopped ears, that I may never hear My lad a-singin' in the night when I am sick wi' fear; A-singin' when the moonlight over a' the land is white-- Ah, G.o.d! I'll up an' go to him a-singin' in the night, A-callin' in the night.

Grandmither, gie me your clay-cold heart that has forgot to ache, For mine be fire within my breast and yet it cannot break.

Wi' every beat it's callin' for things that must not be,-- An' can ye not let me creep in an' rest awhile by ye?

A little la.s.s afeard o' dark slept by ye years agone-- Ah, she has found what night can hold 'twixt sundown an' the dawn!

So when I plant the rose an' rue above your grave for ye, Ye'll know it's under rue an' rose that I would like to be, That I would like to be.

Willa Sibert Cather [1875-

LITTLE WILD BABY

Through the fierce fever I nursed him, and then he said I was the woman--I!--that he would wed; He sent a boat with men for his own white priest, And he gave my father horses, and made a feast.