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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..914714e --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #54017 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/54017) diff --git a/old/54017-0.txt b/old/54017-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index dbab1fa..0000000 --- a/old/54017-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,3077 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's Two Women, 1862; a Poem, by Constance Fenimore Woolson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Two Women, 1862; a Poem - -Author: Constance Fenimore Woolson - -Release Date: January 23, 2017 [EBook #54017] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO WOMEN, 1862; A POEM *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - TWO WOMEN. - - - - - TWO WOMEN: - - 1862. - - _A POEM._ - - BY - - CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON. - - (REPRINTED FROM APPLETONS’ JOURNAL.) - - NEW YORK: - - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, - - 549 AND 551 BROADWAY. - - 1877. - - COPYRIGHT BY - - D. APPLETON AND COMPANY, - - 1877. - - - - - TWO WOMEN. - - 1862. - - - - - _ONE._ - - - Through miles of green cornfields that lusty - And strong face the sun and rejoice - In his heat, where the brown bees go dusty - With pollen from flowers of their choice, - ’Mong myriads down by the river - Who offer their honey, the train - Flies south with a whir and a shiver, - Flies south through the lowlands that quiver - With ripening grain-- - - Fair wheat, like a lady for fancies, - Who bends to the breeze, while the corn - Held stiff all his stubborn green lances - The moment his curled leaf was born; - And grapes, where the vineyards are sweeping - The shores of the river whose tide-- - Slow moving, brown tide--holds the keeping - Of War and of Peace that lie sleeping, - Couched lions, each side. - - Hair curlless, and hid, and smooth-banded, - Blue innocent maidenly eyes, - That gaze at the lawless rough-handed - Young soldiers with grieving surprise - At oaths on their lips, the deriding - And jestings that load every breath, - While on with dread swiftness are gliding - Their moments, and o’er them is biding - The shadow of death! - - Face clear-cut and pearly, a slender - Small maiden with calm, home-bred air; - No deep-tinted hues you might lend her - Could touch the faint gold of her hair, - The blue of her eyes, or the neatness - Of quaint little gown, smoothly spun - From threads of soft gray, whose completeness - Doth fit her withdrawn gentle sweetness-- - A lily turned nun. - - Ohio shines on to her border, - Ohio all golden with grain; - The river comes up at her order, - And curves toward the incoming train; - “The river! The river! O borrow - A speed that is swifter-- Afar - Kentucky! Haste, haste, thou To-morrow!” - Poor lads, dreaming not of the sorrow, - The anguish of war. - - - - - _THE OTHER._ - - - West from the Capital’s crowded throng - The fiery engine rushed along, - Over the road where danger lay - On each bridge and curve of the midnight way, - Shooting across the rivers’ laps, - Up the mountains, into the gaps, - Through West Virginia like the wind, - Fire and sword coming on behind, - Whistling defiance that echoed back - To mountain guerrillas burning the track, - “Do the worst, ye rebels, that ye can do - To the train that follows, but _I_ go through!” - - A motley crowd--the city thief; - The man of God; the polished chief - Of a band of gamblers; the traitor spy; - The correspondent with quick, sharp eye; - The speculator who boldly made - His fifty per cent. in a driving trade - At the edge of the war; the clean lank clerk - Sent West for sanitary work; - The bounty-jumper; the lordling born - Viewing the country with wondering scorn-- - A strange assemblage filled the car - That dared the midnight border-band, - Where life and death went hand-in-hand - Those strange and breathless days of war. - - The conductor’s lantern moves along, - Slowly lighting the motley throng - Face by face; what sudden gleam - Flashes back in the lantern’s beam - Through shadows down at the rearward door? - The conductor pauses; all eyes explore - The darkened corner: a woman’s face - Thrown back asleep--the shimmer of lace, - The sheen of silk, the yellow of gold, - The flash of jewels, the careless fold - Of an India shawl that half concealed - The curves superb which the light revealed; - A sweep of shoulder, a rounded arm, - A perfect hand that lay soft and warm - On the dingy seat; all the outlines rare - Of a Milo Venus slumbered there - ’Neath the costly silk whose heaviest fold - Subordinate seemed--unnoticed mould - For the form beneath. - - The sumptuous grace - Of the careless pose, the sleeping face, - Transfixed all eyes, and together drew - One and all for a nearer view: - The lank clerk hasted, the gambler trod - On the heels of the gazing man of God; - The correspondent took out his book, - Sharpened his pencil with eager look; - The soldiers fought as to who should pass - The first; the lord peered through his glass, - But no sooner saw the sleeping face - Than he too hasted and left his place - To join the crowd. - Then, ere any spoke, - But all eager gazed, the lady woke. - - Dark-brown, sleepy, velvet eyes, - Lifted up in soft surprise, - A wealth of hair of auburn red, - Falling in braids from the regal head - Whose little hat with waving plume - Lay on the floor--while a faint perfume, - The roses, crushed in sleep, betrayed, - Tangled within the loosened braid; - Bold features, Nubian lips, a skin - Creamy pallid, the red within - Mixed with brown where the shadow lies - Dark beneath the lustrous eyes. - She smiles; all hearts are at her feet. - She turns; each hastens to his seat. - The car is changed to a sacred place - Lighted by one fair woman’s face; - In sudden silence on they ride, - The lord and the gambler, side by side, - The traitor spy, the priest as well, - Bound for the time by a common spell, - And each might be in thought and mien - A loyal knight escorting his queen, - So instant and so measureless - Is the power of a perfect loveliness. - - - - - _THE MEETING._ - - - The Western city with the Roman name, - The vine-decked river winding round the hills, - Are left behind; the pearly maid who came - Down from the northern lake whose cool breath fills - The whole horizon, like the green, salt sea, - Is riding southward on the cautious train, - That feels its way along, and nervously - Hurries around the curve and o’er the bridge, - Fearing a rebel ball from every ridge-- - The wild adventurous cavalry campaign - That Morgan and his men, bold riders all, - Kept up in fair Kentucky all those years, - So hot with daring deeds, with glowing tears, - That even Peace doth sometime seem a pall, - When men in city offices feel yet - The old wild thrill of “Boots and saddles all!” - The dashing raid they cannot quite forget - Despite the hasty graves that silent lie - Along its route; at home the women sigh, - Gazing across the still untrodden ways, - Across the fields, across the lonely moor, - “O for the breathless ardor of those days - When we were all so happy, though so poor!” - - The maiden sits alone; - The raw recruits are scattered through the car, - Talking of all the splendors of the war, - With faces grimed and roistering braggart tone. - In the gray dawning, sweet and fair to view, - Like opening wood-flower pearled with morning dew, - She shines among them in her radiance pure, - Notes all their lawless roughness, sadly sure - They’re very wicked--hoping that the day - Of long-drawn hours may safely wear away, - And bring her, ere the summer sunset dies, - To the far farm-house where her lover lies, - Wounded--alone. - The rattling speed turns slow, - Slow, slower all the rusty car-wheels go, - The axles groan, the brakes grind harshly down; - The young conductor comes--(there was a face - He noted in the night)--“Madam, your place - Will soon be noisy, for at yonder town - We take on other soldiers. If you change - Your seat and join that little lady, then - It will not seem so lonely or so strange - For you, as here among so many men.” - Lifting her fair face from the battered seat, - Where she had slumbered like a weary child, - The lady, with obedience full sweet - To his young manhood’s eager craving, smiled - And rose. Happy, the flushed youth led the way; - She followed in her lovely disarray. - The clinging silk disclosed the archèd foot, - Hidden within the dainty satin boot, - Dead-black against the dead-white even hue - Of silken stocking, gleaming into view - One moment; then the lady sleepily - Adjusted with a touch her drapery, - And tried to loop in place a falling braid, - And smooth the rippling waves the night had made; - While the first sunbeams flashing through the pane - Set her bright gems to flashing back again; - And all men’s eyes in that Kentucky car - Grew on her face, as all men’s eyes had done - On the night-train that brought her from afar, - Over the mountains west from Washington. - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - Haply met, - This country maiden, sweet as mignonette, - No doubt the pride of some small Western town:-- - Pity, that she should wear that hopeless gown, - So prim--so dull--a fashion five years old! - - THE MAIDEN (_thinking_). - - How odd, how bold, - That silken robe--those waves of costly lace, - That falling hair, the shadows ’neath the eyes, - Surely those diamonds are out of place-- - Strange, that a lady should in such a guise - Be here alone! - - THE LADY. - - Allow me, mademoiselle, - Our good conductor thinks it would be well - That we should keep together, since the car - Will soon be overcrowded, and we are - The only women.--May I have a seat - In this safe little corner by your side? - Thanks; it is fortunate, indeed, to meet - So sweet a friend to share the long day’s ride!-- - That is, if yours be long? - - THE MAIDEN. - - To Benton’s Mill. - - THE LADY. - - I go beyond, not far--I think we pass - Your station just before Waunona Hill; - But both are in the heart of the Blue Grass. - Do you not love that land? - - THE MAIDEN. - - I do not know - Aught of it. - - THE LADY. - - Yes; but surely you have heard - Of the fair plains where the sweet grasses grow, - Just grass, naught else; and where the noble herd - Of blooded cattle graze, and horses bred - For victory--the rare Kentucky speed - That wins the races? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Yes; I’ve heard it said - They were good worthy horses.--But indeed - I know not much of horses. - - THE LADY. - - Then the land-- - The lovely, rolling land of the Blue Grass, - The wild free park spread out by Nature’s hand - That scarce an English dukedom may surpass - In velvet beauty--while its royal sweep - Over the country miles and miles away, - Dwarfs man-made parks to toys; the great trees keep - Their distance from each other, proud array - Of single elms that stand apart to show - How gracefully their swaying branches grow, - While little swells of turf roll up and fall - Like waves of summer sea, and over all - You catch, when the straight shafts of sunset pass - Over the lea, the glint of the Blue Grass.-- - But you will see it. - - THE MAIDEN. - - No; I cannot stay - But a few hours--at most, a single day. - - THE LADY (_unheeding_). - - I think I like the best, - Of all dumb things, a horse of Blue-Grass breed, - The Arab courser of our own new West, - The splendid creature, whose free-hearted speed - Outstrips e’en time itself. Oh! when he wins - The race, how, pulsed with pride, I wave my hand - In triumph, ere the thundering shout begins, - And those slow, cautious judges on the stand, - Have counted seconds! Is it not a thrill - That stirs the blood, yet holds the quick breath still? - - THE MAIDEN. - - I ne’er have seen race-horses, or a race. - - THE LADY. - - I crave your pardon; in your gentle face - I read reproof. - - THE MAIDEN. - - I judge not any man. - - THE LADY. - - Nor woman? - - THE MAIDEN. - - If you force reply, I can - Speak but the truth. The cruel, panting race, - For gamblers’ prizes, seems not worthy place - For women--nor for men, indeed, if they - Were purer grown. Of kindred ill the play, - The dinner loud with wine, the midnight dance, - The deadly poison of all games of chance-- - All these are sinful. - - THE LADY. - - Ah! poor sins, how stern - The judge! I knew ye not for sins--I learn - For the first time that ye are evil. Go, - Avaunt ye! So my races are a woe-- - Alas! And David Garrick!--Where’s the harm - In David? - - THE MAIDEN. - - I know not the gentleman. - - THE LADY. - - Nay, he’s a play; a comedy so warm, - So pitiful, that, let those laugh who can, - _I_ weep. And must I yield my crystal glass, - Dewy with ice, and fragrant with rare wine, - That makes a dreary dinner-party pass - In rosy light, where after-fancies shine-- - Things that one might have said?--And then the dance, - The _valse à deux temps_, if your partner chance - To be a lover-- - - THE MAIDEN. - - Madam, pray excuse - My seeming rudeness; but I must refuse - To dwell on themes like these. - - THE LADY. - - Did I begin - The themes, or you? - - THE MAIDEN. - - But _I_ dwelt on the sin, - And you-- - - THE LADY. - - Upon the good. Did I not well? - I gave you good for evil, mademoiselle. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Forgive me, lady, but I cannot jest, - I bear too anxious heart within my breast; - One dear to me lies wounded, and I go - To find him, help him home with tender care-- - To home and health, God willing. - - THE LADY. - - Is it so? - Strange--but ah! no. The wounded are not rare, - Nor yet the grief, in this heart-rending war.-- - But he will yet recover; I feel sure - That one beloved by heart so good, so pure - As yours, will not be taken. Sweet, your star - Is fortunate. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Not in the stars, I trust. - We are but wretched creatures of the dust, - Sinful, and desperately wicked; still, - It is in mercy our Creator’s will - To hear our prayers. - - THE LADY. - - And do you then believe - He grants all heart-felt prayers? One might conceive - A case: Suppose a loving mother prays - For her son’s life; he, worn with life’s hard ways, - Entreats his God for death with equal power - And fervor. - - THE MAIDEN. - - It is wrong to pray for death. - - THE LADY. - - I grant it not. But, say in self-same hour - A farmer prays for rain; with ’bated breath - A mother, hastening to a dying child, - Prays for fair weather?--But you do not deign - To listen. Ah! I saw you when you smiled - That little, silver smile! I might explain - My meaning further; but why should I shake - Your happy faith? - - THE MAIDEN. - - You could not. - - THE LADY. - - Nay, that’s true; - You are the kind that walks up to the stake - Unflinching and unquestioning. I sue - For pardon, and I pray you tell me all - This tale of yours. When did your lover fall-- - What battle-field? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Not any well-known name; - It was not Heaven’s pleasure that the fame - Of well-known battle should be his. A band - Of wild guerrillas raiding through the land, - Shot him, and left him bleeding by the way. - - THE LADY. - - Guerrillas? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Yes; John Morgan’s. - - THE LADY. - - Maybe so, - And maybe not; they bear a seven-leagued name - That many hide beneath; each shot, each blow, - Is trumpeted as theirs, and all the blame - Falls on their shoulders, be it what it may-- - Now truth, and now but falsehood. Morgan’s men - Are bold Kentucky riders; every glen - Knows their fleet midnight gallop; every map - Kept by our soldiers here is scored with marks - Where they have been; now near, now miles away, - From river lowland to the mountain-gap, - Swift as the rushing wind. No watch-dog barks - When _they_ ride by, no well-versed tongues betray - Their resting-place; Kentucky knows her own, - Gives silent, helpful welcome when they pass - Across her borders north from Tennessee, - Heading their horses for the far Blue Grass, - The land of home, the land they long to see, - The lovely rolling land. We might have known - That come they would! - - THE MAIDEN. - - You are Kentucky-bred? - - THE LADY. - - I come from Washington. Nay--but I read - The doubt you try to hide. Be frank--confess-- - I am that mythical adventuress - That thrives in Washington these troublous days-- - The country correspondent’s tale? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Your dress-- - And--something in your air-- - - THE LADY. - - I give you praise - For rare sincerity. Go on. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Your tone, - Your words, seem strange.--But then, I’ve never known - A woman like you. - - THE LADY (_aside_). - - Yet we are not few, - Thank Heaven, for the world’s sake! It would starve - If gray was all its color, and the dew - Its only nectar. With a pulsing haste - It seeks the royal purples, and draws down - The luscious bunches to its thirsty taste, - And feels its blood hot-thrilled, a regal crown - Upon its brow; and then, its hands do carve - The vine-leaves into marble. - But the hue - Of thoughts like these she knows not--and in vain - To tell her. Yet, sweet snow-drop, I would fain - Hear her small story. - (_Speaks._) Did he fall alone, - Your gallant soldier-boy? And how to you - Came the sad news? - - THE MAIDEN. - - A farmer heard him moan - While passing--bore him to the camp, and there - A captain from our lake-shore wrote me word - Ere the brigade moved on; which, when I heard, - I left my mother, ill, for in despair - He cried, they wrote, for me. He could not know - That they had written, for hot fever drove - His thoughts with whips of flame.--O cruel woe,--O my poor love-- - My Willie! - - THE LADY. - - Do not grieve, fair child. This day - Will see you by his side--nay, if you will, - Then lay your head here--weep your grief away. - Tears are a luxury--yes, take your fill; - For stranger as I am, my heart is warm - To woman’s sorrow, and this woman’s arm - That holds you is a loyal one and kind. - (_Thinking._) O gentle maiden-mind, - How lovely art thou--like the limpid brook - In whose small depths my child-eyes loved to look - In the spring days! Thy little simple fears - Are wept away. Ah! could _I_ call the tears - At will to soothe the parched heat of my heart! - --O beautiful lost Faith, - I knew you once--but now, like shadowy wraith, - You meet me in this little maiden’s eyes, - And gaze from out their blue in sad surprise - At the great gulf between us. Far apart, - In truth, we’ve drifted--drifted. Gentle ghost - Of past outgrown, thy land the hazy coast - Of dreamless ignorance; I must put out - My eyes to live with you again. The doubt, - The honest, earnest doubt, is upward growth - Of the strong mind--the struggle of the seed - Up to the broad, free air. Contented sloth - Of the blind clods around it sees no need - For change--nay, deems, indeed, all change a crime; - “All things remain as in our fathers’ time-- - What gain ye then by growing?” - “Air--free air! - E’en though I die of hunger and despair, - I go,” the mind replies. - - THE MAIDEN (_thinking_). - - How kind, how warm - Her sympathy! I could no more resist - Her questions, than the large clasp of her arm - That drew me down. How tenderly she kissed - My forehead! strange that so much good should dwell - With so much ill. This shining, costly dress, - A garb that shows a sinful worldliness, - Troubles my heart. - Ah, I remember well - How hard I worked after that letter came - Telling of Willie--and my sisters all, - How swift we sewed! For I had suffered shame - At traveling in house-garb. - --I feel a call - To bring this wanderer back into the fold, - This poor lost sinner straying in the cold - Outside the church’s pale. Should I not try - To show her all the sad deficiency, - The desperate poverty of life like hers, - The utter falseness of its every breath, - The pity that within my bosom stirs - For thinking of the horrors after death - Awaiting her? - - THE LADY. - - Quite calm, again? That’s well. - Wilt taste a peach? My basket holds a store - Of luscious peaches. Ah! she weaves a spell, - This lovely sorceress of fruit; what more - Can man ask from the earth? There is no cost - Too great for peaches. I have felt surprise - Through all my life that fair Eve should have lost - That mythic Asian land of Paradise - For a poor plebeian apple! Now a peach, - Pulpy, pink-veined, hanging within her reach, - Might well have tempted her. - - Oh, these long hours!-- - Whence comes this faint perfume of hot-house flowers-- - Tea-roses? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Tangled in your loosened hair - Are roses. - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - Nita must have twined them there-- - The opera--I know now; I have sped - So swift across the country, my poor head - Is turned.--The opera? Yes; then--O heart, - How hast thou bled! [_Dashes away tears._] - (_Speaks._) Sweet child, I pray you tell - Again your budding romance, all the part - Where he first spoke. You’d known him long and well, - Your Willie? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Yes; in childhood we had been - Two little lovers o’er the alphabet; - Then one day--I had grown to just sixteen-- - Down in the apple-orchard--there--we met, - By chance--and-- - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - Blush, thou fine-grained little cheek, - It comforts me to see that e’en thy meek - Child-beauty knows enough of love to blush. - (_Speaks._) Nay, you flush - So prettily! Well, must _I_ tell the rest? - You knew, then, all at once, you loved him best, - This gallant Willie? - - THE MAIDEN (_thinking_). - - What has come to me - That I do answer, from reserve so free, - This stranger’s questions? Yet may it not chance - My confidence shall win hers in return? - I must press on, nor give one backward glance-- - Must follow up my gain by words that burn - With charity and Christian zeal. - (_Speaks._) Yes; then - We were betrothed. I wore his mother’s ring,-- - And Willie joined the church; before all men - He made the promises and vows which bring - A blessing down from God. Dear lady, strength - From Heaven came to us. Could I endure - This absence, silence, all the weary length - Of hours and days and months, were I not sure - That God was with my Willie? If on you - Sorrow has fallen, lady (and those tears - Showed me its presence), seek the good, the true, - In this sad life; a prayer can calm all fears; - Yield all your troubles to your God’s control, - And He will bless you. Ah! where should _I_ be - Did I not know that in my Willie’s soul - Came first the love of God, then love for me? - - THE LADY. - - His love for you comes _second_? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Would you have - A mortal love come first? - - THE LADY. - - Sweet heart, I crave - Your pardon. For your gentle Christian zeal - I thank you. Wear this gem--’twill make me feel - That I am something to you when we part. - But what the “silence?” - - THE MAIDEN. - - Ten months (they seem years!) - Since Willie joined the army; and my heart - Bore it until his letters ceased; then tears - Would come--would come! - - THE LADY. - - Why should the letters cease? - - THE MAIDEN. - - I know not; I could only pray for peace, - And his return. No doubt he could not write, - Perplexed with many duties; his the care - Of a thronged camp, where, ever in his sight, - The new recruits are drilled. - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - Oh, faith most rare! (_Speaks._) Had you no doubts? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Why should I doubt? We are - Betrothed--the same forever, near or far! - --He knew my trust - Was boundless as his own. - - THE LADY. - - But still you must - In reason have known something--must have heard - Or else imagined-- - - THE MAIDEN. - - For three months no word - Until this letter; from its page I learned - That my poor Willie had but just returned - To the brigade, when struck down unaware. - It seems he had been three months absent. - - THE LADY. - - --Where? - - THE MAIDEN. - - They did not say. I hope to bear him home - To-morrow; for in truth I scarce could come, - So ill my mother, and so full my hands - Of household cares; but, Willie understands. - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - _Ciel!_ faith like this is senseless--or sublime! - Which is it? - (_Speaks_). But three months--so long a time-- - - THE MAIDEN. - - Were it three years, ’twould be the same. The troth - We plighted, freely, lovingly, from both - Our true hearts came. - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - And may as freely go-- - Such things have happened! But I will not show - One glimpse of doubt to mar the simple trust - She cherishes; as soon my hand could thrust - A knife in the dove’s breast. - (_Speaks._) You’ll find him, dear; - All will go well; take courage. Not severe - His wound? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Not unto death; but fever bound - His senses. When the troops moved on, they found - A kindly woman near by Benton’s Mill; - And there he lies, poor Willie, up above - In her small loft, calling, in tones that thrill: - “Oh, come to me, my love, my love, my love!”-- - Here is his picture. - - THE LADY. - - What! ’tis Meredith! - The girl is mad!--Give it me forthwith! - How came you by it? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Madam, you will break - The chain. I beg-- - - THE LADY. - - Here is some strange mistake. - This picture shows me Meredith Reid. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Yes, Reid - Is Willie’s name; and Meredith, indeed, - Is his name also--Meredith Wilmer. I - Like not long names, so gave him, lovingly, - The pet name Willie. - - THE LADY. - - O ye Powers above! - The “pet name Willie!” Would you try to chain - Phœbus Apollo with your baby-love - And baby-titles? Scarce can I refrain - My hands from crushing you!-- - You are that girl, - Then, the boy’s fancy. Yes, I heard the tale - He tried to tell me; but it was so old, - So very old! I stopped him with a curl - Laid playfully across his lips. “Nay, hold! - Enough, enough,” I said; “of what avail - The rest? I know it all; ’tis e’er the same - Old story of the country lad’s first flame - That burns the stubble out. Now by this spell - Forget it all.” He did; and it was well - He did. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Never! oh, never! Though you prove - The whole as clear as light, I’d ne’er receive - One word. As in my life, so I believe - In Willie! - - THE LADY. - - Fool and blind! your God above - Knows that I lie not when I say that he - You dwarf with your weak names is mine, mine, mine! - He worships me--dost hear? He worships _me_, - Me only! What art thou, a feeble child, - That _thou_ shouldst speak of loving? Haste, aside, - Lest we should drown you in the torrent wild - Of our strong meeting loves, that may not bide - Nor know your dying, even; feeble weed - Tossed on the shore--[_The maiden faints._ - Why could I not divine - The truth at first? [_Fans her._ - Fierce love, why shouldst thou kill - This little one? The child hath done no ill, - Poor wounded, broken blossom. I should pour - My gentlest pity-- - - THE MAIDEN (_recovering_). - - Madam, thanks; no more - Do I require your aid. - - THE LADY (_aside_). - - How calm she seems, - How cold her far-off eyes! Poor little heart. - The pity of it! all its happy dreams, - With a whole life’s idolatry to part - In one short moment. - (_Speaks._) Child, let us be friends; - Not ours the fault, it is the work of Fate. - And now, before your hapless journey ends, - Say, in sweet charity, you do not hate - Me for my love. Trust me, I’ll tend him well; - As mine own heart’s blood, will I care for him - Till strong again. Then shall he come and tell - The whole to you--the cup from dregs to brim-- - How, with undoubting faith - In the young fancy that he thought was love - For you, he came a-down the glittering path - Of Washington society; above - The throng I saw his noble Saxon head, - Sunny with curls, towering among the rest - In calm security--scorn that is bred - Of virtue, and that largeness which your West - With its wide sweep of fields gives to her sons-- - A certain careless largeness in the look, - As though a thousand prairie-miles it took - Within its easy range. - Ah! blindly runs - Our fate. We met, we two so far apart - In every thought, in life, in soul, in heart-- - Our very beings clashed. He, fair, severe; - I, dark and free; his days a routine clear, - Lighted by conscience; I, in waking dream - Of colors, music, warmth, the scents of flowers, - The sweep of velvet, and the diamond’s gleam, - A cloud of romance heavy on the air, - The boudoir curtained from the light of day, - Where all the highest came to call me fair, - And whispered vows I laughed in scorn away. - Was it my fault that Nature chose to give - The splendid beauty of this hair, these eyes, - This creamy skin? And if the golden prize - Of fortune came to me, should I not live - In the rich luxury my being craved? - I give my word, I no more thought of time-- - Whether ’twas squandered, trifled with, or saved, - Than the red rose in all her damask prime. - Each day I filled with joys full to the brim-- - The rarest fruits and wines, the costliest lace, - The ecstasy of music, every whim - For some new folly gratified, the grace - Of statues idealized in niches, touch - Of softest fabrics. Ah! the world holds much - For those who love her; and I never heard - In all my happy glowing life one word - Against her, till--he came! - We met, we loved, - Like flash of lightning from a cloudless sky, - So sudden, strange, the white intensity-- - Intensity resistless! Swift there moved - Within his heart a force unknown before, - That swept his being from that early faith - Across a sea, and cast it on the shore - Prone at my feet. - He minded not if death - Came, so he could but gaze upon my face. - - --But, bending where he lay (the youthful grace - Of his strong manhood, in humility - Prone, by love’s lightnings), so I bended me - Down to his lips, and gave him--all! - Sweet girl, - Forgive me for the guiltless robbery, - Forgive him, swept by fateful Destiny! - He spoke of one, the child-love of his youth; - I told of my child-marriage. But, in truth, - No barrier, had it been a thousand-fold - Stronger than boyish promise, e’er could hold - Natures like ours! - You see it, do you not? - You understand it all. - --I had forgot, - But this the half-way town; the train runs slow, - No better place than this. But, ere you go, - Give me one silent hand-clasp, little pearl. - I ask you not to speak, for words would seem - Too hard, too hard. Yet, some time, when the dream - Of girlhood has dissolved before the heat - Of real love, you will forgive me, sweet. - - THE MAIDEN. - - I fail to comprehend you. Go? Go where? - - THE LADY. - - Back to your home; here waits the north-bound train; - ’Twill bear you safely. To go on were pain - Most needless--cruel. - - THE MAIDEN. - - I am not aware - That I have said aught of returning. Vain - Your false and evil story. I have heard - Of such as you; but never, on my word - As lady and as Christian, did I think - To find myself thus side by side with one - Who flaunts her ignominy on the brink - Of dark perdition! - Ah! my Willie won - The strong heart’s victory when he turned away - From your devices, as I _know_ he turned. - Although you follow him in this array - Of sin, I _know_ your evil smiles he spurned - With virtuous contempt--the son of prayers, - The young knight of the church! My bosom shares - His scorn; take back your ring, false woman. Go! - Move from my side. - - THE LADY. - - Dear Heaven, now I know - How pitiless these Christians! - Unfledged girl, - Your little, narrow, pharisaic pride - Deserves no pity; jealousy’s wild whirl - Excuse might be, since that is born of love; - But _this_ is scorn, and, by the God above, - I’ll set you in your place! - Do _you_ decide - The right and wrong for this broad world of ours, - Poor little country-child, whose feeble eyes - Veiled o’er with prejudice are yet so wise - That they must judge the earth, and call it good - Or evil as it follows their small rules, - The petty, narrow dogmas of the schools - That hang on Calvin! - Doubtless prairie-flowers - Esteem the hot-house roses evil all; - But yet I think not that the roses should - Go into mourning therefor! - Oh, the small, - Most small foundation for a vast conceit! - Is it a merit that you never learned - But one side of this life? Because you dwelt - Down in a dell, there were no uplands sweet, - No breezy mountain-tops? _You_ never yearned - For freedom, born a slave! You never felt - The thrill of rapture, the wild ecstasy - Of mere existence that strong natures know, - The deep and long-drawn breaths, the burning glow - Of blood that sunward leaps; but, in your dell, - You said: “This is the world. If all, like me, - Walked on this one straight line, all would go well!” - O fool! O blind! - O little ant toiling along the ground! - You cannot see the eagle on the wind - Soaring aloft; and so you go your round - And measure out the earth with your small line, - An inch for all infinity! “Thus mine - Doth make the measure; thus it is.” - Proud girl! - You call me evil. There is not a curl - In all this loosened hair which is not free - From sin as your smooth locks. Turn; look at me! - I flout you with my beauty! From my youth - Beside my mother’s chair, by God’s own truth, - I’ve led a life as sinless as your own. - Your innocence is ignorance; but I - Have seen the Tempter on his shining throne, - And said him nay. You craven weaklings die - From fear of dangers I have faced! I hold - Those lives far nobler that contend and win - The close, hard fight with beautiful, fierce Sin, - Than those that go untempted to their graves, - Deeming the ignorance that haply saves - Their souls, some splendid wisdom of their own! - You fold - Yourself in scornful silence? I could smile, - O childish heart, so free from worldly guile, - Were I not angered by your littleness. - You judge my dress - The garb of sin? Listen. I sat and heard - The opera; by chance there fell a word - Behind me from a group of men who fill - Night after night my box. My heart stood still. - I asked--they told the name. “Wounded,” they said, - “A letter in the journal here.” I read, - Faced them with level eyes; they did not know, - But wondered, caught the truth, to see me go - Straight to my carriage. “Drive! The midnight train.” - We reached it, breathless. - Had I worn fair white, - A ballroom-robe, I’d do the same to gain - One moment more of time. - - THE MAIDEN. - - And by what right-- - Are you his wife? - - THE LADY. - - I am not; but to-night - I shall be, if I live. Your scorn, poor child, - Is thrown away. Bound by his soldier’s oath, - I would not keep him. No Omphale I, - Though he be Hercules. We plighted troth, - And then, when called, he went from me--to die - If need be. I remember that I smiled - When they marched by! - Love for my country burns - Within my heart; but this was love for him. - I could not brook him, one who backward turns - For loving wife; his passion must not dim - The soldier’s courage stern. Then I had wealth, - The golden wealth left me by that old man - Who called me wife for four short months; by stealth - He won me, but a child; the quiet plan - Was deftly laid. I do not blame him now. - My mother dead--one kind thought was to save - My budding youth from harm. The thoughtless vow - I made was soon dissevered by the grave, - And I was left alone. Since then I’ve breathed - All pleasures as the flowers breathe in the sun, - At heart as innocent as they; red-wreathed - My careless life with roses, till the one - Came! Then the red turned purple deep, the hope - Found itself love; the rose was heliotrope. - There needed much - To do with lawyers’ pens ere I could give - My hand again; so that dear, longed-for touch - Was set by me for the full-blooming day - When Peace shall drive the demon War away - Forever. I was wrong. Oh, let him live, - Kind God! Love shall be wronged no more--no more. - All my own heart’s life will I gladly pour - For one small hour of his.--Wait--wait--I fly - To thee, my love, on swiftest wings! Thy cry - The depths of grief too hot for tears doth move: - “Oh, come to me, my love, my love, my love!” - - THE MAIDEN. - - It was not you he called! - - THE LADY. - - Ah! yes. - - THE MAIDEN. - - He is - _Not_ false; I’ll ne’er believe it, woman. - - THE LADY. - - His - The falseness of the pine-tree, felled, uptorn - By the great flood, and onward madly borne - With the wild, foaming torrent miles away.-- - No doubt he loved the violet that grew - In the still woods ere the floods came; he knew - Not then of roses! - - THE MAIDEN. - - Cruel eyes, I say - But this to all your flashings--you have lied - To me in all! - - THE LADY. - - Look, then, here at my side - His letters--read them. Did he love me? Read! - Aha! you flush, you tremble, there’s no need - To show you more; the strong words blanch your cheek. - See, here his picture; could I make it speak, - How it would kill you! Yes, I wear it there - Close to my heart. Know you this golden hair - That lies beside it? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Should he now confess - The whole--yes, tell me all your tale was true, - I would not leave him to you, sorceress! - I’d snatch him from the burning--I would sue - His pardon down from heaven. I shall win - Him yet, false woman, and his grievous sin - Shall be forgiven. - (_Bows her head upon her hands._) O God let him die - Rather than live for one who doth belie - All I have learned of Thee! - - _Train stops suddenly._--_Enter_ CONDUCTOR. - - CONDUCTOR. - - The bridge is down, - The train can go no farther. Morgan’s band - Were here last night! There is a little town - Off on the right, and there, I understand, - You ladies can find horses. Benton’s Mill - Is but a short drive from Waunona Hill.-- - Can I assist you? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Thanks; I must not wait. [_Exit._ - - THE LADY. - - Yes; that my basket--that my shawl. O Fate! - How burdened are we women! Sir, you are - Most kind; and may I trouble you thus far? - Find me the fleetest horses; I must reach - Waunona Hill this night. I do beseech - All haste; a thousand dollars will I give - For this one ride. [_Exeunt._ - - A SOLDIER. - - Say, boys, I’d like to live - Where I could see that woman! I could fight - A regiment of rebels in her sight-- - Couldn’t you? - - THE OTHERS. - - Yes--yes! [_Exeunt omnes._ - - - - - _THE DRIVE._ - - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - O fair Kentucky! border-land of war, - Thou rovest like a gypsy at thy will - Between the angry South and stubborn North. - Across thy boundaries many times from far - Sweep Morgan’s men, the troopers bold who fill - Ohio with alarm; then, marching forth - In well-drilled ranks with flag, and fife, and drum, - From camp and town the steady blue-coats come, - March east, march west, march north, march south, and find - No enemy except the lawless wind. - No sooner gone--Lo! presto through the glen - Is heard the midnight ride of Morgan’s men: - They ford the rivers by the light of stars, - The ringing hoofs sound through the mountain-pass; - They draw not rein until their glad huzzas - Are echoing through the land of the Blue Grass. - --O lovely land, - O swell of grassy billows far and near, - O wild, free elms, whose swaying arms expand - As if to clasp me, hold my love as dear - As thine own son! I hasten to his side-- - Ye roads, lie smooth; ye streams, make safe the ford; - O chivalrous Kentucky, help the bride - Though thou hast wounded with thy rebel sword - The foeman bridegroom! - - * * * * * - - .... Can it be that girl - Who rides in front? I thought her left behind - In that small town. _Ciel!_ would I could hurl - The slim thing down this bank! Would I could bind - Those prim, long-fingered, proper hands of hers - Behind her drooping, narrow-shouldered back, - And send her home! A heart like that transfers - Its measured, pale affections readily, - If the small rules it calleth piety - Step in between them. Otherwise, the crack - Of doom would not avail to break the cord - Which is not love so much as given word - And fealty, that conscientiousness - Which weigheth all things be they more or less, - From fold of ribbon to a marriage-vow, - With self-same scales of duty. Shall I now - Ride on and pass her--for her horse will fail - Before the hour is out? Of what avail - Her journey? - (_Speaks._) Driver, press forward.--Nay, stop-- - (_Aside._) O what a child am I to waver thus! - I know not how to be ungenerous, - Though I may try--God knows I truly tried. - What’s this upon my hand? Did a tear drop? - (_Speaks._) By your side - Behold me, maiden; will you ride with me? - My horses fleet and strong. - - THE MAIDEN. - - I thank you--no. - - THE LADY (_aside_). - - She said me nay; then why am I not free - To leave her here, and let my swift steeds go - On like the wind? - (_Speaks._) Ho! driver-- - (_Aside._) But, alas! - I cannot. - (_Speaks._) Child, my horses soon will pass - In spite of me; they are so fleet they need - The curb to check them in their flying speed. - Ours the same journey: why should we not ride - Together? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Never! - - THE LADY. - - Then I must abide - By your decision.--Driver, pass. - (_Thinking._) I take - Her at her word. In truth, for her own sake - ’Twere charity to leave her, hasten on, - Find my own love, and with him swift be gone - Ere she can reach him; for his ardor strong - (Curbed, loyal heart, so long!), - Heightened by fever, will o’ersweep all bounds, - And fall around me in a fiery shower - Of passion’s words.-- And yet--this inner power-- - This strange, unloving justice that surrounds - My careless conscience, _will_ not let me go! - (_Speaks._) Ho! - Driver, turn back. - --Maiden, I ask again-- - I cannot take advantage. Come with me; - That horse will fail you soon--ask; both these men - Will tell you so.--Come, child--we will agree - The ride shall count as naught; nay, when we reach - The farm-house, all shall be as though no speech - Had ever passed between us--we will meet - Beside his couch as strangers. - (_Speaks._) There’s defeat - For thee, O whispering tempter! - - THE MAIDEN (_to the men_). - - Is it true? - Will the horse fail? - - ONE OF THE MEN. - - Yes. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Madam, then with you - I needs must ride.--I pray you take my share - Of payment; it were more than I could bear - To be indebted to you. - - THE LADY. - - Nay--the sum - Was but a trifle. - (_Aside._) Now forgive me, truth. - But was it not a trifle to such wealth-- - Such wealth as mine? - (_Speaks._) Heard you that distant drum - Borne on the wind a moment? Ah! our youth - Is thrilled with the great pulses of this war. - How fast we live--how full each crowded hour - Of hot excitements! Naught is done by stealth, - The little secrecies of other days - Thrown to the winds; the clang and charge afar - On the red battle-field, the news that sways - Now to, now fro, ’twixt victory and defeat; - The distant cry of “Extra!” down the street - In the gray dawnings, and our breathless haste - To read the tidings--all this mighty power - Hath burned in flame the day of little things, - Curled like a scroll--and now we face the kings, - The terrible, the glorious gods of war. - --The maid forgets her shyness; wherefore waste - One moment when the next may call him forth - Ne’er to return to her? The dear old North - May take her lover--but he shall not go - With lips unkissed to meet his Southern foe; - Her last embrace will cheer him on his round - Now back, now forth, over the frozen ground - Through the long night. - --And when the hasty word - “Only one day; be ready, love,” is heard, - The soft consent is instant, and there swells - Amid the cannonade faint wedding-bells - From distant village; then, as swift away - The soldier bridegroom rides--he may not stay. - And she?--She would not keep him, though the tears - Blind her sweet eyes that follow him, and fears - Crowd her faint heart and take away her breath, - As on her white robe falls the shade of Death - That waits for him at Shiloh! - O these days! - When we have all gone back to peaceful ways, - Shall we not find sweet Peace a little dull? - --You do not speak. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Madam, my heart is full - Of other thoughts. - - THE LADY. - - Of love?--Pray--what is love? - How should a woman love?--Although we hate - Each other well, we need not try to prove - Our hate by silence--for there is a fate - Against it in us women; speak we must, - And ever shall until we’re turned to dust, - Nay--I’m not sure but even then we talk - From grave to grave under the churchyard-walk-- - Whose bones last longest--whose the finest shroud-- - And--is there not a most unseemly crowd - In pauper’s corner yonder? - --You are shocked? - You do not see, then, that I only mocked - At my own fears--as those poor French lads sang - Their gayest songs at the red barricade, - Clear on the air their boyish voices rang - In chorus, even while the bayonet made - An end of them.--He may be suffering now-- - He may be calling-- - There! I’ve made a vow - To keep on talking. So, then--tell me, pray, - How should a woman love? - - THE MAIDEN. - - I can but say - How I do love. - - THE LADY. - - And how? - - THE MAIDEN. - - With faith and prayer. - - THE LADY. - - I, too; my faith is absolute. We share - That good in common. I believe his love - Is great as mine, and mine--oh, could I prove - My love by dying for him, far too small - The test; I’d give my love, my soul, my all, - In life, in death, in immortality, - Content in hell itself (if there be hells-- - Which much I doubt)--content, so I could be - With him! - - THE MAIDEN. - - Is it a woman’s tongue that tells - This blasphemy? When I said faith, I meant - A faith in God. - - THE LADY. - - And God is love! He sent - This love that fills my heart. Oh, most divine-- - Oh, nearest to him of all earthly things, - A love that passeth self--a love like mine - That passeth understanding. The bird sings - Because it is the only way he knows - To praise his Maker; and a love that flows - Like mine is worship, too--a hymn that rolls - Up to the God of Love, who gave us souls - To love with. Then the hidden sacrifice; - It formed a part of worship once, and I - Do hold it now the part that deepest lies - In woman’s love, the dim sanctuary - Behind the veil, holy of holies, kept - E’en from the one she loves: all told, except - This mystic feeling which she may not know - How to express in words--the martyr’s glow - Idealized--the wish to give him joy - Through her own suffering, and so destroy - All part that self might play--to offer pure - Her love to her heart’s idol. Strange, obscure, - Sacred, but mighty, is this longing; I - Can feel though not define it. I would die - To make him happy! - - THE MAIDEN. - - As his happiness - Depends on me, then can you do no less - Than yield him to me--if you love him thus. - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - “As,” said she? Heart, but this is fabulous, - This calm security of hers! - (_Speaks._) Why, child, - Hast never heard of passion, and its wild, - Impetuous, unreasoning assault - On souls that know not their own depths? The fault - Not his: he was but young, he did not know - Himself. Might he not love me even though - Thou wert the best? Have pity! I appeal - To all the woman in thee. Dost thou feel - That one touch of his hand would call the blood - Out from thy heart in an o’erwhelming flood - To meet it? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Nay, I know not what you speak. - - THE LADY. - - Thou dost not, that I see. Thy pearly cheek - Keeps its fair white. - Sweet child, he’s that and more - To me. Ah, let me kneel; thus I implore - That thou wouldst yield him to me--all the right - His boyhood promise gave thee. - - THE MAIDEN. - - In the sight - Of Heaven we are betrothed; I cannot break - My word. - - THE LADY. - - Oh, not for mine, but for _his_ sake! - He loves me! - - THE MAIDEN. - - Only madness, that will burn - And die to ashes; but, the fever past, - The old, pure love will steadfastly return - And take its rightful place. - - THE LADY. - - But should it last, - This fever-madness? should he ask your grace, - And say he loved me best? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Then, to his face - I’d answer, Never! What! leave him to sin? - - THE LADY. - - And what the sin? - - THE MAIDEN. - - You! you! You have no faith, - No creed, that I can learn. The Bible saith - All such are evil. - - THE LADY (_aside_). - - Why did I begin - Such hopeless contest? - (_Speaks._) Child, if he should lie - Before us now, and one said he must die - Or love me, wouldst thou yield? - - THE MAIDEN. - - Never; as dead - He would be in God’s hands; living-- - - THE LADY. - - In mine. - - THE MAIDEN. - - That is, in atheism. - - THE LADY. - - Have I said - Aught atheistical? Because my faith - Is broader than its own, this conscience saith - I am an atheist! Ah, child, is thine - A better faith? Yet, be it what it may, - Should he now lie before us here, and say - He loved thee best, I’d yield him though my heart - Should stop--though I should die. Yea, for his sake, - To make him happy, I would even take - Annihilation!--let the vital spark - Called soul be turned to nothing. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Far apart - Our motives; mine is clear with duty-- - - THE LADY. - - Dark - And heavy mine with love. - - THE MAIDEN. - - You talk of death - With frequent phrase, as though a little thing, - A matter merely of the will and breath, - It were to face the judgment, and the King - Who has not summoned you. Your flippant tongue - Rolls out its offers as a song is sung, - And, both mean nothing; for the chance to die - For one we love, that glorious gift, comes now - But rarely in this life that you and I - Must bear our part in. Thus, no empty vow - Do _I_ repeat; and yet, I surely know, - At duty’s call right calmly could I go - Up the red scaffold’s stairs. - - THE LADY. - - I well believe - Thee, steadfast maiden-voice. Nay, I conceive - _My_ love, _thy_ duty, are alike--the same - Self-sacrifice under a various name - According to our natures. I would yield, - And thou refuse to yield, from the same love; - I’d have him happy here, and thou--above. - For thus we look at life. - The book is sealed - That holds our fate--we may not look within; - But this I know, that, be it deadly sin - Or highest good, he loves me! - - THE MAIDEN. - - There are loves-- - And loves! - - THE LADY. - - So be it. All this word-work proves - Nothing. Then let it end. Though there’s a charm - In speech--but you are tired. ’Twill be no harm - To rest you on my shoulder, though its creed - (Poor shoulder!) is not orthodox. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Indeed, - I need not rest. - - THE LADY. - - Well, then, I’m half asleep - Myself, and you the silent watch may keep.-- - (_Thinking._) I’ve whiled the time away; but, thou dear God, - Who made me, how with bleeding feet have trod - The toiling moments through my heart! I pray - (For I believe that prayer may aid the soul, - Though not the body nor the fixed control - Of Nature) that his love may hold its sway - E’en as I saw him last, when, at my feet, - He lavished his young heart in burning tide - Of loving words. Oh, not for mine own joy, - But his, I pray this prayer; do thou destroy - All my own part in it.--Ah, love, full sweet - Shall be our meeting. Lo! the longed-for bride - Comes--of her own accord. There is no bliss, - Even in heaven, greater than the kiss - That I do keep for thee! - - THE MAIDEN (_thinking_). - - O God, thy will - Be done--yes, first of all, be done! (Bide still, - Thou wicked, rebel heart!) Yet, O Lord, grant - This grace to me, a lowly supplicant. - My mind is vexèd, evil thoughts do rage - Within my soul; O Merciful, assuage - The suffering I endure!--If it is true - My poor boy loves this woman--and what is - Is ever for the best--create anew - Her soul that it may surely leaven his - With holiness. Oh, stretch Thy mighty arm - And win her to Thy fold, that she may be - A godly woman, graced with piety, - Turned from the error of her ways, the harm - Of all her worldliness, the sinful charm - Of her fair face (if it be fair, though I - Think her too brown) changed by humility - To decorous sweetness.-- - Lord, look in my heart; - I may not know myself; search every part, - And give me grace to say that I will yield - My love to hers if Thy will stands revealed - In his swift preference. - Yet, in pity, hear-- - Change her, Lord--make her good! [_Weeps._ - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - Is that a tear - On her soft cheek? She has her little griefs, - Then, as the children have; their small beliefs - Are sometimes brought to naught--no fairies live, - And dolls are sawdust!-- - Love, I do forgive - Your boyish fancy, for she’s lily fair; - But no more could content you now than dew - Could hope to fill Niagara with its rare, - Fine drops that string the grass-blade’s shining hue, - Upon the brink.--Dearest, I call! Oh, see - How all my being rushes toward thee! Wait, - E’en though before thine eyes bright heaven’s gate - Let out its light: angels might envy thee - Such love as I shall give thee--wait! oh, wait! - - - - - _THE FARM-HOUSE._ - - - THE LADY. - - The sun is setting, we have passed the mill - Some time; the house is near Waunona Hill, - But the road smooth this way--which doth account - For the discrepancy of names. The gleam - Of the low sun shines out beneath that mass - Of purple thunder-cloud; when we surmount - This little swell of land, its slanting beam - Will light up all the lances of the grass, - The steely hue, the blue of the Blue Grass. - - * * * * * - - That is the house off on the right; I know - By intuition. - - THE MAIDEN. - - It may hold--the worst! - - THE LADY. - - Art faint? - - THE MAIDEN. - - ’Twill pass. Lady, I enter first-- - First and alone! - - THE LADY. - - Child, if I thought his heart - Longed for the sight of you, I’d let you go; - Nay, I would make you! As it is-- - But no, - It cannot be. - - THE MAIDEN (_clasping her hands_). - - Lord, give me strength! I yield; - Go you the first. Ah! [_Sobs._ - - THE LADY. - - Yours the nobler part; - _I_ cannot yield. (And yet it is for him - I hold this “cannot” firm.) What might you wield - With that unflinching conscience-power! See, dim - Mine eyes-- - There; we will go together--thus! - God help us both! [_They enter the house._ - Yes, we have come, we two, - His nearest, dearest. Is it perilous, - The fever? Where--above? That stair? We go-- - Come, child--come, child. - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. - - Dear ladies, you should know - Before-- - - THE LADY. - - Come! - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. - - He-- - - THE LADY. - - Child, must I wait for you - Here at his door! - - THE MAIDEN. - - I come; but something cold - Has touched my heart. - - THE LADY. - - Then stay, coward! - - THE MAIDEN. - - Nay, hold; - I come. [_They mount the stairs together._ - (_Crying out above._) But he is dead--my Willie! - - THE LADY (_above_). - - Fate, - You’ve gained the day at last! Yes, he is dead! - - - - - _BY THE DEAD._ - - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. - - He died last night at three--quite easily. - - THE LADY. - - Alone? - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. - - A surgeon from the camp was here. - - THE LADY. - - Where is the man? - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. - - Gone back. - - THE LADY. - - Send for him. - See, - Here is a trifle; though it cannot clear - Our debt to you, yet take it. - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. - - But you give - Too much. - - THE LADY. - - Keep it. - - THE MAIDEN (_kneeling by the bedside_). - - O Willie! can I live - Without you? Love, my love, why are you dead - And I alive? O noble, golden head, - Whose every curl I know, how still you lie - On this poor pillow, and how dreamlessly - You sleep! But waken now; look on me, dear; - Open those close-shut eyes, for I am here-- - Yes, here all this long way from home. Oh, speak-- - Speak to me, Willie.--Ah, how cold his cheek-- - How icy cold! O God! he’s dead, he’s dead! - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. - - Yes, he is dead, dead as King David. Truth - He was right handsome for a Yankee youth-- - Rode his horse well. - - THE LADY (_aside_). - - I love you, Meredith. - - THE MAIDEN. - - What’s this upon the table near his hand? [_Opens the package._ - My picture--yes, my letters--all! Herewith - I know--I know he loved me! - - THE LADY (_thinking_). - - Cover worn, - Creased in its folds, unopened, and forlorn-- - Yes, I remember it. I would not look - Within;--unopened since that day. - He took - The poor thing forth with dying loyalty - To send to her. - - THE MAIDEN. - - O Lord, I understand - Thy purpose; ’twas to try my faith. I kneel - To thank thee that mercy doth reveal - The whole to my poor heart. He loved me--me, - Me only! - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE. - - Would you like to see the wound - Here in his arm?--Why, if she hasn’t swooned! - - THE LADY. - - Take her below, and care for her, poor child! - - [_Exit woman, carrying the maiden in her arms._ - - Brain, art thou wild, - Distraught, that thou canst all things calmly hear - And answer, when my pulses reel, my heart - Stands still, and cold through every vital part - Death breathes his icy breath? - Oh, my own love! - I clasp thee in my arms, come back to me! - O ice-cold lips I kiss, ye are as dear - As ever! Come! Thy idol waits for thee, - Waits--weeps. - Dost thou not hear me there above - Where thou hast gone? Come back and take the bride - Who nestles weeping, longing, at the side - Of thy deserted body. Oh! most fair - Thy earthly tenement, the golden hair - Curls as when my poor fingers twined it last, - Thy head upon my breast. O brownèd cheek! - Can I not warm thee with mine own? Oh, speak-- - Speak to me, Meredith! - Poor wounded arm, - Dear blood; here will I hold thee close and warm - Upon my heart. Dost thou not feel me now? - And now? And now? Do I not hold thee fast? - Hast thou not longed for me? - I gave my vow - To be thine own. See! I am come. My hand - I lay in thine. Oh, speak to me! Command - My every breath; full humbly I obey, - The true wife longs to feel a master’s sway, - Longs to do homage, so her idol prove - Ruler--nay, despot of her willing love. - Didst thou not hear me whisper while she spake. - “I love thee--oh, I love thee, Meredith?” - I would not that her childish grief should break - Thy peace up in thy heaven; even there - Thou longest for my love, and near the stair - Where souls come up from earth thou’rt standing now - Watching for me. O darling, from thy brow - I catch the radiance! - She is not thine, - Thou art not hers. The boyish pledge wherewith - She strives to hold thee was the radiancy - Of early dawn, which now the mighty sun - Hath swept away in fervent heat; nor thee - Nor her it binds. Her pretty youth will run - Its swift course to some other love; Fate - Ne’er lets such sweet maids pine, though they may try; - A few months lent to tearful constancy, - The next to chastened sorrow, slow decline - To resignation; then, the well-masked bait - Of making some one happy, though at cost - Of sweet self-sacrifice, which soon is lost - In that content which, if not real love, - Looks strangely like it! But why should I prove - What thou dost know already, freed from time - And finite bonds, my darling? - Love sublime, - Art thou not God? Then let him down to me - For one short moment. See! in agony - I cling to the cold body; let him touch - Me once with this dear hand; it is not much - I ask--one clasp, one word. - What! nothing? Then - I call down vengeance on this God of men - Who makes us at his will, and gives us hearts - Only to rend them in a hundred parts, - And see them quiver--bleed! I, creature, dare - To call aloud for justice; my despair - Our great far-off Creator doth arraign - Before the bar to answer for the pain - I suffer now. It is too much--too much! - O woe! woe! woe! the human soul can such - Intensity of sorrow not withstand, - But, lifting up on high its fettered hand, - Can only cry aloud in agony, - And blindly, wildly curse its God and die! - How dare you take, - You Death, my love away from me? The old, - The weak, the loveless, the forlorn, were there - In crowds, and none to miss them. But your cold - And heartless eye did mark that he was fair, - And that I loved him? From your dreadful hold - I snatch my darling, and he yet shall wake - From out your sleep by my caresses. See, - See how I love him! Ah, shall I not win - His life back with my lips, that lovingly - Do cling to his? And, though you do begin - Your icy work, these arms shall keep him warm-- - Nay, more: my loving verily disarm - E’en you, O King of Terrors! You shall turn - And give him back to me; a heart shall burn - Under your ribs at last from very sight - Of my fierce, tearless grief. - --O sorry plight - Of my poor darling in this barren room, - Where only his gold curls do light the gloom! - But we will change all that. This evening, dear, - Shall be our bridal: wilt thou take me, here, - And thus?--in this array--this falling hair-- - Crushed robes? And yet, believe me, I am fair - As ever. - Love, love, love! oh, speak to me! - I will not listen in my misery - If thy heart beat-- - God! it is cold! - [_Falls to the floor._ - - _Enter the_ SURGEON. - - SURGEON. - - Art ill, - Madam?-- - - THE LADY (_rising_). - - Thanks, sir. But sorrow cannot kill. - Would that it could! Nay, I sit by his side-- - Thus. Now tell all--all--all. - - SURGEON. - - You cannot hide - The deadly faintness that has paled your cheek; - Let me get-- - - THE LADY. - - Nothing. Nothing can avail, - Good sir; my very heart’s blood has turned pale. - Struck by God’s lightning, do you talk to me - Of faintness? Only tell your tale--speak, speak; - You saw him die? - - SURGEON. - - I did; right tranquilly - He passed away this morning, with your name - Upon his lips--for you are Helena? - - THE LADY. - - I am. - - SURGEON. - - I saw your picture. - (_Aside._) Yes, the same. - Hair, eyes. What Titian tints! - (_Speaks._) He made me lay - Your letters and your picture on his heart - Before he died; he would not from them part - For e’en one moment. - - THE LADY. - - Lift them not, they’re mine; - My hand alone must touch the holy shrine - Of love and death where the poor relics lie-- - Darling (_bends, and kisses the letters_), because you loved them! - Let them die, - Go to the grave with him, there on his breast, - Where I would gladly die too--be at rest - Forever.--And he spake of me? - - SURGEON. - - He said - That you would come, for he had sent you word. - - THE LADY. - - I ne’er received it; ’twas by chance I heard, - A passing chance. - - SURGEON. - - The lines were down-- - - THE LADY. - - And may - They never rise again that failed that day, - And left him dying here! Go on; he said-- - - SURGEON. - - That you would come, and grieved that o’er his head - The turf might close ere you could reach his side - And give him one last kiss. - And then--he died. - - THE LADY. - - No more? - - SURGEON. - - No more. Ah, yes, one other thing: - Short time before, he feebly bade me bring - That package on the table--but ’tis torn-- - Some one has opened it! It looked well worn, - In old, unbroken foldings when I brought - It from his satchel. Who could thus have wrought - On other’s property? - - THE LADY. - - The owner.--Then - He said-- - - SURGEON. - - To give it you, for you would know - Its history, and where it swift should go; - The name was writ within. - - THE LADY (_aside_). - - Yes, love; amen! - Be it according to thy wish. - (_Speaks._) Pray take - This fee, good sir. I would that for his sake-- - Your kindness to him--I could send your name - Ringing through all the West in silver fame.-- - At dawn, you said, the burial? Then leave - Me here alone with him. I well believe - You’ll show me further kindness. Speak no word - Beyond your doctor’s art to that poor child - Who weeps below. I would not that she heard - Aught more of grief. - [_Exit_ SURGEON. - Ah! all my passion wild - Has gone; now come the softening woman tears.-- - Forgive me, great Creator, that I spake - In my sharp agony. O do thou take - The bitterness from out my soul; I know - Naught, but thou knowest all! Then let my woe, - The poor blind woe we short-lived mortals bear, - Be my sad plea.-- - I knew, through my despair, - You loved me to the last. Death had no fears - For you, my love; you met him with my name, - As talisman of the undying flame - That leaps o’er the black chasm of the grave - And mounts to heaven. But I will not rave, - When you died softly. - - Ah! you love me there - As well as here. God never made me fair - For nothing; now, I know the gift he gave - That I might take my place with you at last, - Equal in loveliness, though years had passed - Since you first breathed the air above the skies, - The beauty-giving air of paradise. - Fair are you now, my love, but not like me: - Mine is the goddess-bloom, the rarity - Of perfect loveliness; yours, the bright charm - Of strong young manhood, whose encircling arm - Could bend me like a reed. Oh, for one clasp - Of that strong arm!-- - Hist! was not that the hasp - Of the old door below? She comes; I hear - Her light step on the stair. - Darling, no fear - Need trouble you upon your couch; to me - A sacred trust this gentle girl shall be - Through life. Did you not love her once? - - THE MAIDEN (_entering_). - - I pray - Forgiveness thus to leave you here so long; - I did not mean it, but I swooned away - Before I knew it. - - THE LADY. - - Thanks. There was no wrong; - I liked the vigil. - - THE MAIDEN (_going to the bedside_). - - Sweet those eyes--the brow - How calm! I would not bring life to him now - E’en if I could; gone to his God--at rest - From all earth’s toil. - Dear love, upon thy breast - I lay my hand; I yield thee back to Him - Who gave thee to me; and, if thou hast wrought - Wrong to our troth in deed, or word, or thought, - I now forgive thee. Sleep in peace; the dim, - Dark grave has its awaking. - As the hart - Longed for the water-brooks, so have I yearned - For token, Willie, that thy love returned - To me at last. Lo! now I can depart - In peace.--My picture, letters! Thou wast true, - Wast true to me, thank God!-- - (_Turning._) Madam, to you - I owe apology. - - THE LADY. - - Never! But throw - Your gentle arms around me--thus. And so - Give me a blessing. - - THE MAIDEN. - - But I’ve robbed you--you - Who loved him also; though to me was due - This love of his; at least-- - - THE LADY. - - Sweet doubter, yes; - I grant thee all. But, as I kneel, O bless - This heart that bows before thee; all its sin-- - If it be sin--forgive; and take, within - Thy pure love, me, thy sister, who must live - Long years--long years! O child, who dost forgive - More than thou knowest, lay thy sister-hand - In blessing! - - THE MAIDEN. - - Though I do not understand, - Yet will I thus content thee: Now the Lord - Bless thee, and keep thee by his holy word; - Be gracious to thee, that thy faith increase; - Lift up his countenance, and give thee peace, - Now and forever! - - THE LADY. - - Amen. May it prove-- - This peace--what thou dost think it. - - THE MAIDEN. - - I must go; - The horses wait for me. Now that I know - He’s safe with God, the living claim my care.-- - My mother--ah, full selfish was the love - That made me leave her so; I could despair - Of mine own self, if God were not so good, - Long-suffering, and kind. - O could I stay! - But I must reach the train at break of day. - I take my letters and the picture.--Should - Your duties call you not so soon, oh wait, - See his dear head laid low by careful hand, - And say a prayer above the grave. - - THE LADY (_aside_). - - O Fate, - How doth she innocently torture--rack - My soul with hard realities! I stand - And hear her talk of graves!--O God, the black, - Damp earth over my darling! - - THE MAIDEN (_turning to the bedside_). - - Love, farewell! - I kiss thee once.--Lady, you do not mind? - It was but once. I would not seem unkind; - I would not wound you needlessly. - - THE LADY (_aside_). - - O swell, - Proud heart, to bursting, but gainsay her not! - - THE MAIDEN. - - I know full well that yours the harder lot, - Dear lady; but, forgive me, he was mine - Long, long before. It were too much to ask - That I should not be glad his heart returned - To me, his bride betrothed--to know he yearned - For me before he died. I cannot mask - My joy because you loved him too. - - THE LADY. - - Nay, thine - All joy that thou canst take; I would not rob - Thee of one little hair’s-breadth. - - THE MAIDEN (_laying her head on the pillow_). - - Oh, farewell, - My love! my love! my love! [_Weeps._ - - THE LADY. - - Child, do not sob. - Come to me--let me hold you; who can tell, - Perhaps he hears you, though so still. We’ll stand - Together by his side--thus, hand-in-hand-- - And gaze on his calm face. - - WOMAN OF THE HOUSE (_below_). - - The wagon’s here. - - THE MAIDEN. - - Alas! and I must hasten. Kiss me, dear; - Indeed, I love you now. - - THE LADY. - - And I have tried - To make you. [_They embrace.--Exit_ MAIDEN. - - THE LADY (_throwing herself down beside the body_). - - Meredith, art satisfied? - - - - - _EARTH TO EARTH._ - - - Wrapped in his cloak, they bore him forth at dawn, - The soldier dead, dead in his gallant strength, - Young manhood’s prime. The heavy fold withdrawn - Showed his calm face; while all his rigid length - Lay stiff beneath the covering, the feet - Turned up to heaven like marble. Breezes played - Soft in his curling hair, the fragrance sweet - Of the wild-brier roses incense made, - And one bird sang a chant. - Yet recks it not, - This quiet body going to its grave, - Feet foremost, folded hands, if the storm rave - Or the sun shine. Henceforth nor part nor lot - Hath it with men--the tale is told, all’s o’er; - Its place shall know its step, its voice, no more; - Its memory shall pass away; its name, - For all its evil or for all its worth, - Whether bedecked with reverence or blame, - Shall soon be clean forgotten.-- - Earth to earth! - - The lady walked alone. Her glorious hair - Still held its roses crushed; the chill despair - That numbed her being could not dim the light - Of all her flashing jewels, nor the bright - Sheen of her draperies. - The summer sun - Rose in the east and showed the open grave - Close at her feet; but, ere the work begun-- - Lowering the clay (O proud humanity! - Is this thy end?)--she gentle signal gave - To lay the body down, and, by its side - Kneeling, kissed brow and lips, fondly as bride - Might kiss; and, as she clung there, secretly - A shining ring left on the cold dead hand, - And covered it from view; then slowly rose - And gave them place. - But ere the tightening rope - Had done its duty, o’er the eastern slope - Rode horsemen, and the little group of those - Who gazed, drew back, and eyed askance the band. - They turned, they drew their reins--a sight to see - Indeed, this lady clad so royally, - Alone, beside a grave. - She raised her eyes, - And the bold leader bared his lofty head - Before her to his saddle-bow; the guise - Of bold, rough-riding trooper could not hide - The gallant grace that thus its homage paid - To so much beauty. At his signal mute, - The little band, Kentucky’s secret pride, - His daring followers in many a raid - And many a hair-breadth ’scape, made swift salute, - And, all dismounting, honor to the dead - Paid silently, not knowing ’twas their own - Bullet by night that laid him there:--so strange - The riddle of men’s life, its little range - Thick with crossed fates, though each one stands alone - To mortal eyes. - The rope slackened, the clay - Had reached its final resting-place. Then she - Who loved him best, in all her rich array - Stepped forth, and, kneeling, with her own hands cast - The first clod on his heart. “I yield to thee, - Nature, my only love. Oh, hold him fast - As sacred trust! - ‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust!’” - Then, rising, with her lovely face upturned - To the clear sky, where the first sunbeams burned, - “I know that my Redeemer lives,” she said; - “He that believes on him, though he were dead, - Yet shall he live!” - And so passed from their sight. - - The troopers ride away, - On to the south; the men who fill the grave - With hurried shovelfuls in whispers say, - “That’s part of Morgan’s band.” And one, a slave, - Looks down the road, and mutters: “That was him-- - Young Cap’en Morgan’s self! These eyes is dim, - But they knows Morgan! Morgan!--what! why, bless - Your hearts, _I_ know him, and I know Black Bess-- - ’Twas Bess he rode.” - - And now the work is done; - On from their northern raid the troopers pass - Fleet to the south; the grave is filled, and gone - Even the slave. - Forever still, alone, - Her letters and bright picture on his breast, - Her sparkling spousal-ring on his dead hand, - The golden-haired young soldier lies at rest - Where o’er his head the steely shadows pass, - Far in the fair Kentucky border-land, - The lovely, rolling land of the Blue Grass. - - - - - 1864. - - _WASHINGTON._ - - - THE LADY (_with an open letter_). - - Married! Nay, now the little vexing fear - That troubled the calm hollow of my grief - With its small aching is withdrawn, and clear - The certainty--she never loved him. Brief - Her forgetting--brief!--But I will not chide; - All happiness go with thee, gentle bride, - And of my gold a sister’s share! - To wed - Another, and once his! O golden head - Under the grass, how jealous is my heart - Of thy remembrance! Yet I should be glad - She loved thee not, for then no evil part - I played, e’en though unconsciously. - Oh, mad, - Mad, mad my love for thee! the same to-day-- - The same, the same. I could not be a wife-- - I could not stop the sun! No love but thee, - My own, my own! no kiss but thine--no voice - To call me those sweet names that memory - Brings back with tears. Ah! had I any choice, - I still must love thee down beneath the sod - More than all else--though grandest soul that God - Had ever made did woo me. Love, my heart - Is thine, and ever must be thine; thy name - Is branded there! - Yet must I live my life. - - SERVANT (_announcing_). - - The Count. - - THE LADY. - - Another? Ah! poor fools. The game - Doth while away my time. Yes, I do play - My part with smiles that are not wholly feigned, - For life is strong, and I am young.--There reigned - A queen once, who, though dead, could not lay down - Her long-used sceptre; with her jeweled crown - Upon her head, she sat and meted out - Reward and justice; nor did any doubt - Her life was gone. Were not her robes the same-- - Her jewels bright? And had she not a name - Borne wide upon the winds for loveliness? - She could not stop--she needs must reign--_noblesse - Oblige_! So I. - But she--married! a wife! - Who once was his! Oh, horrible! a life - Of treason to his memory, a long - Lie! But, ah! no, she never loved him. _I_ - Do hold myself as his, and loyally, - Royally, keep my vow. - - SERVANT. - - What shall I say, - Madam? - - THE LADY (_speaks_). - - Show in the Count. - (_Aside._) Ah! well-a-day! - One must do something. - - THE COUNT (_entering_). - - _Madame, je viens_-- - - - - - _LAKE ERIE._ - - - THE MAIDEN (_rising from her knees_). - - My marriage-morning! Lord, give me thy grace - For the new duties of a wedded life. - The letters have I burned; - And now--the picture. Oh, dear boyish face, - One look--the last! Yet had I been thy wife, - Willie, I had been true to thee--returned - All thy affection to the full. - She said - Love was “a sacrifice.” It is; as--thus: - Get thee behind me, Past! [_Burns the picture._ - --Which one of us - Was truest? But why ask? She wronged the dead - With many lovers--nay, her very dress - Showed not one trace of sorrow. - --I confess - I never thought her fair, although the throng - Do call her so, they tell me. - --Long, how long - I wore the heavy crape that checked my breath, - And went about as one who sorroweth; - And I did sorrow! Slow months passed, and I - Gave every thought to tearful memory; - My grief grew selfish. - Then--he brought his suit-- - My mother wept and prayed. What right had I - To crush two lives? If by the sacrifice - I make them happy, is it not large price - For my poor, broken years? How earnestly - I strove to do the right! - The patient fruit - Of years of prayer came to my aid, and now - I stand in bridal white. Lord, hear my vow: - Oh, may I make him happy! Not a thought - Of any other love shall mar the troth - I give for _this_ life. Evils, troubles, naught - But death, shall part us. Thus the marriage-oath. - But after--_then_--O Willie! - - THE MOTHER (_entering_). - - Art thou dressed? - That’s well, dear one. Never has mother blessed - A child more dutiful, more good. - Come, love, - The bridegroom waits. - - THE END. - -[Illustration: text decoration] - - * * * * * - - TWO WOMEN: - - _A POEM_. - - BY CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON. - - [REPRINTED FROM APPLETONS’ JOURNAL.] - - _From the Springfield Republican._ - -“Miss Constance Fenimore Woolson’s poem, ‘Two Women,’ begun in the -January and finished in the February number of APPLETONS’ JOURNAL, is of -such remarkable quality as to deserve a wider reading than it is likely -to have. To read it in completeness gives one, beyond its faults--which -are principally those of imperfect versification and a certain formality -of phraseology--a sense of power in character-drawing (coloring enough, -too, for that matter), in dramatic situation and in expression of deep -emotions, which is rarely met with. The contrast between the magnificent -woman of the world and the Puritan country-girl is done in true masterly -way, and that the one should continue faithful to love through her life, -though still reigning in social royalty, while the other marries as -piously as she mourned, and puts away the dead youth’s memory -forever--is perfectly true to their natures. To present such marked -types in rivalry, and show the self-abnegation in the rich nature and -the innocent self-absorption of the narrow nature, was well worth while. -The poem would make quite a little book, and better merits such -treatment than most verses that receive it.” - - -_From the New York Evening Post._ - -“In the poem ‘Two Women,’ the first half of which appeared in the -January number of APPLETONS’ JOURNAL, and the last half of which has -just now come to us in the February number of that magazine, there is -something, we think, which takes the piece out of the category of -ordinary magazine-work, and entitles it to special attention. The poem -is long enough, for one thing, to fill a little volume, if it were -printed as it is the custom to print books of poetry, and while it is -rugged, faulty, and in many respects defective, it is nevertheless -strong, dramatic, and full of the flavor of the soil. The two women who -gave it its name are types of two well-defined classes of American -women, but they are sharply drawn as individuals also, and their -characters are presented with a boldness and a degree of distinctness -which is possible only at the hands of a writer of very considerable -dramatic power.” - - -_From the Providence Journal._ - -“A story in verse, which enchains the attention with fascinating power, -... produces an intensely emotional effect upon the reader, and at the -same time an involuntary tribute to the originality and noteworthy -ability of the writer.” - - -_From the Detroit Post._ - -“One of the most powerful pieces of magazine-writing we have seen in a -long time.... Shows a far-reaching knowledge of human nature, a dramatic -grasp and force, and a power of description and expression seldom seen.” - - -One Volume. Cloth. 12mo. - - D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Two Women, 1862; a Poem, by -Constance Fenimore Woolson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO WOMEN, 1862; A POEM *** - -***** This file should be named 54017-0.txt or 54017-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/0/1/54017/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org/license - - -Title: Two Women, 1862; a Poem - -Author: Constance Fenimore Woolson - -Release Date: January 23, 2017 [EBook #54017] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO WOMEN, 1862; A POEM *** - - - - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<hr class="full" /> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" width="308" height="500" alt="" title="" /> -</div> - -<p class="c"><big>T W O W O M E N.</big></p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_001" id="page_001"></a>{1}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_002" id="page_002"></a>{2}</span> </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_003" id="page_003"></a>{3}</span> </p> - -<h1> -TWO WOMEN:<br /> -<br /> -<small>1862.<br /> -<br /> -<i>A POEM.</i></small></h1> - -<p class="c"> -BY<br /> -<br /> -CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON.<br /> -<br /> -<small>(<span class="smcap">Reprinted from Appletons’ Journal.</span>)</small><br /> -<br /> -NEW YORK:<br /> - -D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,<br /> - -549 <small>AND</small> 551 BROADWAY.<br /> - -1877.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_004" id="page_004"></a>{4}</span><br /> -<br /> -<small>COPYRIGHT BY<br /> - -D. APPLETON AND COMPANY,<br /> - -1877.</small> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_005" id="page_005"></a>{5}</span></p> - -<h1>TWO WOMEN.<br /><br /> -<small>1862.</small></h1> - -<h2><a name="ONE" id="ONE"></a><i>ONE.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Through</span> miles of green cornfields that lusty<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And strong face the sun and rejoice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his heat, where the brown bees go dusty<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With pollen from flowers of their choice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Mong myriads down by the river<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who offer their honey, the train<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flies south with a whir and a shiver,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flies south through the lowlands that quiver<br /></span> -<span class="i10">With ripening grain—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fair wheat, like a lady for fancies,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Who bends to the breeze, while the corn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Held stiff all his stubborn green lances<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The moment his curled leaf was born;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And grapes, where the vineyards are sweeping<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The shores of the river whose tide—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_006" id="page_006"></a>{6}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slow moving, brown tide—holds the keeping<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of War and of Peace that lie sleeping,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Couched lions, each side.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hair curlless, and hid, and smooth-banded,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Blue innocent maidenly eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That gaze at the lawless rough-handed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Young soldiers with grieving surprise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At oaths on their lips, the deriding<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And jestings that load every breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While on with dread swiftness are gliding<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their moments, and o’er them is biding<br /></span> -<span class="i10">The shadow of death!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Face clear-cut and pearly, a slender<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Small maiden with calm, home-bred air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No deep-tinted hues you might lend her<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Could touch the faint gold of her hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The blue of her eyes, or the neatness<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of quaint little gown, smoothly spun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From threads of soft gray, whose completeness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Doth fit her withdrawn gentle sweetness—<br /></span> -<span class="i10">A lily turned nun.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ohio shines on to her border,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Ohio all golden with grain;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_007" id="page_007"></a>{7}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The river comes up at her order,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And curves toward the incoming train;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The river! The river! O borrow<br /></span> -<span class="i2">A speed that is swifter— Afar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kentucky! Haste, haste, thou To-morrow!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poor lads, dreaming not of the sorrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">The anguish of war.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_OTHER" id="THE_OTHER"></a><i>THE OTHER.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">West</span> from the Capital’s crowded throng<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fiery engine rushed along,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the road where danger lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On each bridge and curve of the midnight way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shooting across the rivers’ laps,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up the mountains, into the gaps,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through West Virginia like the wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fire and sword coming on behind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whistling defiance that echoed back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To mountain guerrillas burning the track,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Do the worst, ye rebels, that ye can do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the train that follows, but <i>I</i> go through!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_008" id="page_008"></a>{8}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A motley crowd—the city thief;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The man of God; the polished chief<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a band of gamblers; the traitor spy;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The correspondent with quick, sharp eye;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The speculator who boldly made<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His fifty per cent. in a driving trade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the edge of the war; the clean lank clerk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sent West for sanitary work;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bounty-jumper; the lordling born<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Viewing the country with wondering scorn—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A strange assemblage filled the car<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That dared the midnight border-band,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where life and death went hand-in-hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those strange and breathless days of war.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The conductor’s lantern moves along,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slowly lighting the motley throng<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Face by face; what sudden gleam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flashes back in the lantern’s beam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through shadows down at the rearward door?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The conductor pauses; all eyes explore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The darkened corner: a woman’s face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thrown back asleep—the shimmer of lace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sheen of silk, the yellow of gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flash of jewels, the careless fold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of an India shawl that half concealed<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_009" id="page_009"></a>{9}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The curves superb which the light revealed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sweep of shoulder, a rounded arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A perfect hand that lay soft and warm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the dingy seat; all the outlines rare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a Milo Venus slumbered there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Neath the costly silk whose heaviest fold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Subordinate seemed—unnoticed mould<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the form beneath.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">The sumptuous grace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the careless pose, the sleeping face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Transfixed all eyes, and together drew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One and all for a nearer view:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lank clerk hasted, the gambler trod<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the heels of the gazing man of God;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The correspondent took out his book,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sharpened his pencil with eager look;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The soldiers fought as to who should pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The first; the lord peered through his glass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But no sooner saw the sleeping face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than he too hasted and left his place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To join the crowd.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Then, ere any spoke,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all eager gazed, the lady woke.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Dark-brown, sleepy, velvet eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lifted up in soft surprise,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_010" id="page_010"></a>{10}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">A wealth of hair of auburn red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Falling in braids from the regal head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose little hat with waving plume<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lay on the floor—while a faint perfume,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The roses, crushed in sleep, betrayed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tangled within the loosened braid;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bold features, Nubian lips, a skin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Creamy pallid, the red within<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mixed with brown where the shadow lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark beneath the lustrous eyes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She smiles; all hearts are at her feet.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She turns; each hastens to his seat.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The car is changed to a sacred place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lighted by one fair woman’s face;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In sudden silence on they ride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lord and the gambler, side by side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The traitor spy, the priest as well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bound for the time by a common spell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And each might be in thought and mien<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A loyal knight escorting his queen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So instant and so measureless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is the power of a perfect loveliness.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_011" id="page_011"></a>{11}</span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_MEETING" id="THE_MEETING"></a><i>THE MEETING.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> Western city with the Roman name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The vine-decked river winding round the hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are left behind; the pearly maid who came<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down from the northern lake whose cool breath fills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The whole horizon, like the green, salt sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is riding southward on the cautious train,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That feels its way along, and nervously<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hurries around the curve and o’er the bridge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fearing a rebel ball from every ridge—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wild adventurous cavalry campaign<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Morgan and his men, bold riders all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kept up in fair Kentucky all those years,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So hot with daring deeds, with glowing tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That even Peace doth sometime seem a pall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When men in city offices feel yet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old wild thrill of “Boots and saddles all!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dashing raid they cannot quite forget<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Despite the hasty graves that silent lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along its route; at home the women sigh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gazing across the still untrodden ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the fields, across the lonely moor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“O for the breathless ardor of those days<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When we were all so happy, though so poor!”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_012" id="page_012"></a>{12}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">The maiden sits alone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The raw recruits are scattered through the car,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Talking of all the splendors of the war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With faces grimed and roistering braggart tone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the gray dawning, sweet and fair to view,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like opening wood-flower pearled with morning dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She shines among them in her radiance pure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Notes all their lawless roughness, sadly sure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’re very wicked—hoping that the day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of long-drawn hours may safely wear away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bring her, ere the summer sunset dies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the far farm-house where her lover lies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wounded—alone.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">The rattling speed turns slow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slow, slower all the rusty car-wheels go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The axles groan, the brakes grind harshly down;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The young conductor comes—(there was a face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He noted in the night)—“Madam, your place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will soon be noisy, for at yonder town<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We take on other soldiers. If you change<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your seat and join that little lady, then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It will not seem so lonely or so strange<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For you, as here among so many men.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lifting her fair face from the battered seat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where she had slumbered like a weary child,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_013" id="page_013"></a>{13}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lady, with obedience full sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To his young manhood’s eager craving, smiled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And rose. Happy, the flushed youth led the way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She followed in her lovely disarray.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The clinging silk disclosed the archèd foot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hidden within the dainty satin boot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dead-black against the dead-white even hue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of silken stocking, gleaming into view<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One moment; then the lady sleepily<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Adjusted with a touch her drapery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tried to loop in place a falling braid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And smooth the rippling waves the night had made;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While the first sunbeams flashing through the pane<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Set her bright gems to flashing back again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all men’s eyes in that Kentucky car<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grew on her face, as all men’s eyes had done<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the night-train that brought her from afar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the mountains west from Washington.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Haply met,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This country maiden, sweet as mignonette,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No doubt the pride of some small Western town:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pity, that she should wear that hopeless gown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So prim—so dull—a fashion five years old!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_014" id="page_014"></a>{14}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">How odd, how bold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That silken robe—those waves of costly lace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That falling hair, the shadows ’neath the eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Surely those diamonds are out of place—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strange, that a lady should in such a guise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be here alone!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Allow me, mademoiselle,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our good conductor thinks it would be well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That we should keep together, since the car<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will soon be overcrowded, and we are<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The only women.—May I have a seat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In this safe little corner by your side?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thanks; it is fortunate, indeed, to meet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So sweet a friend to share the long day’s ride!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That is, if yours be long?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">To Benton’s Mill.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I go beyond, not far—I think we pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your station just before Waunona Hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But both are in the heart of the Blue Grass.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do you not love that land?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_015" id="page_015"></a>{15}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">I do not know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aught of it.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Yes; but surely you have heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the fair plains where the sweet grasses grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just grass, naught else; and where the noble herd<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of blooded cattle graze, and horses bred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For victory—the rare Kentucky speed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That wins the races?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Yes; I’ve heard it said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They were good worthy horses.—But indeed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know not much of horses.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Then the land—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lovely, rolling land of the Blue Grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wild free park spread out by Nature’s hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That scarce an English dukedom may surpass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In velvet beauty—while its royal sweep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the country miles and miles away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dwarfs man-made parks to toys; the great trees keep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their distance from each other, proud array<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_016" id="page_016"></a>{16}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of single elms that stand apart to show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How gracefully their swaying branches grow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While little swells of turf roll up and fall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like waves of summer sea, and over all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You catch, when the straight shafts of sunset pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the lea, the glint of the Blue Grass.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But you will see it.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">No; I cannot stay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But a few hours—at most, a single day.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>unheeding</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">I think I like the best,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all dumb things, a horse of Blue-Grass breed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Arab courser of our own new West,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The splendid creature, whose free-hearted speed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Outstrips e’en time itself. Oh! when he wins<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The race, how, pulsed with pride, I wave my hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In triumph, ere the thundering shout begins,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And those slow, cautious judges on the stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have counted seconds! Is it not a thrill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That stirs the blood, yet holds the quick breath still?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I ne’er have seen race-horses, or a race.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_017" id="page_017"></a>{17}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I crave your pardon; in your gentle face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I read reproof.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I judge not any man.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nor woman?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">If you force reply, I can<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Speak but the truth. The cruel, panting race,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For gamblers’ prizes, seems not worthy place<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For women—nor for men, indeed, if they<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were purer grown. Of kindred ill the play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dinner loud with wine, the midnight dance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deadly poison of all games of chance—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All these are sinful.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Ah! poor sins, how stern<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The judge! I knew ye not for sins—I learn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the first time that ye are evil. Go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Avaunt ye! So my races are a woe—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alas! And David Garrick!—Where’s the harm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In David?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know not the gentleman.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_018" id="page_018"></a>{18}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nay, he’s a play; a comedy so warm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So pitiful, that, let those laugh who can,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>I</i> weep. And must I yield my crystal glass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dewy with ice, and fragrant with rare wine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That makes a dreary dinner-party pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In rosy light, where after-fancies shine—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Things that one might have said?—And then the dance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The <i>valse à deux temps</i>, if your partner chance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be a lover—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Madam, pray excuse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My seeming rudeness; but I must refuse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To dwell on themes like these.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Did I begin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The themes, or you?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">But <i>I</i> dwelt on the sin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">Upon the good. Did I not well?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I gave you good for evil, mademoiselle.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_019" id="page_019"></a>{19}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Forgive me, lady, but I cannot jest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I bear too anxious heart within my breast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One dear to me lies wounded, and I go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find him, help him home with tender care—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To home and health, God willing.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Is it so?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strange—but ah! no. The wounded are not rare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor yet the grief, in this heart-rending war.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he will yet recover; I feel sure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That one beloved by heart so good, so pure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As yours, will not be taken. Sweet, your star<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is fortunate.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Not in the stars, I trust.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We are but wretched creatures of the dust,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sinful, and desperately wicked; still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It is in mercy our Creator’s will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To hear our prayers.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">And do you then believe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He grants all heart-felt prayers? One might conceive<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A case: Suppose a loving mother prays<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For her son’s life; he, worn with life’s hard ways,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_020" id="page_020"></a>{20}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Entreats his God for death with equal power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fervor.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It is wrong to pray for death.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I grant it not. But, say in self-same hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A farmer prays for rain; with ’bated breath<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A mother, hastening to a dying child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prays for fair weather?—But you do not deign<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To listen. Ah! I saw you when you smiled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That little, silver smile! I might explain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My meaning further; but why should I shake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your happy faith?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You could not.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Nay, that’s true;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You are the kind that walks up to the stake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unflinching and unquestioning. I sue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For pardon, and I pray you tell me all<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This tale of yours. When did your lover fall—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What battle-field?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_021" id="page_021"></a>{21}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Not any well-known name;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was not Heaven’s pleasure that the fame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of well-known battle should be his. A band<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of wild guerrillas raiding through the land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shot him, and left him bleeding by the way.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Guerrillas?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes; John Morgan’s.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Maybe so,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And maybe not; they bear a seven-leagued name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That many hide beneath; each shot, each blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is trumpeted as theirs, and all the blame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Falls on their shoulders, be it what it may—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now truth, and now but falsehood. Morgan’s men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are bold Kentucky riders; every glen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knows their fleet midnight gallop; every map<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kept by our soldiers here is scored with marks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where they have been; now near, now miles away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From river lowland to the mountain-gap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swift as the rushing wind. No watch-dog barks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When <i>they</i> ride by, no well-versed tongues betray<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_022" id="page_022"></a>{22}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their resting-place; Kentucky knows her own,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gives silent, helpful welcome when they pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across her borders north from Tennessee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heading their horses for the far Blue Grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The land of home, the land they long to see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lovely rolling land. We might have known<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That come they would!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You are Kentucky-bred?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I come from Washington. Nay—but I read<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The doubt you try to hide. Be frank—confess—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am that mythical adventuress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That thrives in Washington these troublous days—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The country correspondent’s tale?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Your dress—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And—something in your air—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">I give you praise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For rare sincerity. Go on.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_023" id="page_023"></a>{23}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Your tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your words, seem strange.—But then, I’ve never known<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A woman like you.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Yet we are not few,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thank Heaven, for the world’s sake! It would starve<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If gray was all its color, and the dew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its only nectar. With a pulsing haste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seeks the royal purples, and draws down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The luscious bunches to its thirsty taste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And feels its blood hot-thrilled, a regal crown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon its brow; and then, its hands do carve<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The vine-leaves into marble.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">But the hue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of thoughts like these she knows not—and in vain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To tell her. Yet, sweet snow-drop, I would fain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear her small story.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Did he fall alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your gallant soldier-boy? And how to you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came the sad news?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">A farmer heard him moan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While passing—bore him to the camp, and there<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_024" id="page_024"></a>{24}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">A captain from our lake-shore wrote me word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere the brigade moved on; which, when I heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I left my mother, ill, for in despair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He cried, they wrote, for me. He could not know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That they had written, for hot fever drove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His thoughts with whips of flame.—O cruel woe,—O my poor love—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My Willie!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Do not grieve, fair child. This day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will see you by his side—nay, if you will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then lay your head here—weep your grief away.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tears are a luxury—yes, take your fill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For stranger as I am, my heart is warm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To woman’s sorrow, and this woman’s arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That holds you is a loyal one and kind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Thinking.</i>) O gentle maiden-mind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How lovely art thou—like the limpid brook<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In whose small depths my child-eyes loved to look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the spring days! Thy little simple fears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are wept away. Ah! could <i>I</i> call the tears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At will to soothe the parched heat of my heart!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—O beautiful lost Faith,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I knew you once—but now, like shadowy wraith,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You meet me in this little maiden’s eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gaze from out their blue in sad surprise<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_025" id="page_025"></a>{25}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the great gulf between us. Far apart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In truth, we’ve drifted—drifted. Gentle ghost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of past outgrown, thy land the hazy coast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of dreamless ignorance; I must put out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My eyes to live with you again. The doubt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The honest, earnest doubt, is upward growth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the strong mind—the struggle of the seed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up to the broad, free air. Contented sloth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the blind clods around it sees no need<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For change—nay, deems, indeed, all change a crime;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“All things remain as in our fathers’ time—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What gain ye then by growing?”<br /></span> -<span class="i15">“Air—free air!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">E’en though I die of hunger and despair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I go,” the mind replies.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">How kind, how warm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her sympathy! I could no more resist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her questions, than the large clasp of her arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That drew me down. How tenderly she kissed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My forehead! strange that so much good should dwell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With so much ill. This shining, costly dress,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A garb that shows a sinful worldliness,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Troubles my heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Ah, I remember well<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_026" id="page_026"></a>{26}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">How hard I worked after that letter came<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Telling of Willie—and my sisters all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How swift we sewed! For I had suffered shame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At traveling in house-garb.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—I feel a call<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bring this wanderer back into the fold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This poor lost sinner straying in the cold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Outside the church’s pale. Should I not try<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To show her all the sad deficiency,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The desperate poverty of life like hers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The utter falseness of its every breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pity that within my bosom stirs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For thinking of the horrors after death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Awaiting her?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Quite calm, again? That’s well.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wilt taste a peach? My basket holds a store<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of luscious peaches. Ah! she weaves a spell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This lovely sorceress of fruit; what more<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can man ask from the earth? There is no cost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too great for peaches. I have felt surprise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through all my life that fair Eve should have lost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That mythic Asian land of Paradise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a poor plebeian apple! Now a peach,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pulpy, pink-veined, hanging within her reach,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might well have tempted her.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_027" id="page_027"></a>{27}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Oh, these long hours!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whence comes this faint perfume of hot-house flowers—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tea-roses?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Tangled in your loosened hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are roses.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Nita must have twined them there—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The opera—I know now; I have sped<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So swift across the country, my poor head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is turned.—The opera? Yes; then—O heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How hast thou bled! [<i>Dashes away tears.</i>]<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Sweet child, I pray you tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Again your budding romance, all the part<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where he first spoke. You’d known him long and well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your Willie?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Yes; in childhood we had been<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Two little lovers o’er the alphabet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then one day—I had grown to just sixteen—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down in the apple-orchard—there—we met,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By chance—and—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Blush, thou fine-grained little cheek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It comforts me to see that e’en thy meek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Child-beauty knows enough of love to blush.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_028" id="page_028"></a>{28}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Nay, you flush<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So prettily! Well, must <i>I</i> tell the rest?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You knew, then, all at once, you loved him best,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This gallant Willie?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">What has come to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I do answer, from reserve so free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This stranger’s questions? Yet may it not chance<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My confidence shall win hers in return?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I must press on, nor give one backward glance—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must follow up my gain by words that burn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With charity and Christian zeal.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Yes; then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We were betrothed. I wore his mother’s ring,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Willie joined the church; before all men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He made the promises and vows which bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A blessing down from God. Dear lady, strength<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From Heaven came to us. Could I endure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This absence, silence, all the weary length<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of hours and days and months, were I not sure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That God was with my Willie? If on you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sorrow has fallen, lady (and those tears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Showed me its presence), seek the good, the true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In this sad life; a prayer can calm all fears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yield all your troubles to your God’s control,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_029" id="page_029"></a>{29}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And He will bless you. Ah! where should <i>I</i> be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did I not know that in my Willie’s soul<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came first the love of God, then love for me?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His love for you comes <i>second</i>?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Would you have<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A mortal love come first?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Sweet heart, I crave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your pardon. For your gentle Christian zeal<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I thank you. Wear this gem—’twill make me feel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I am something to you when we part.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But what the “silence?”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Ten months (they seem years!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since Willie joined the army; and my heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bore it until his letters ceased; then tears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would come—would come!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Why should the letters cease?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_030" id="page_030"></a>{30}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know not; I could only pray for peace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his return. No doubt he could not write,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perplexed with many duties; his the care<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a thronged camp, where, ever in his sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The new recruits are drilled.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<p>Oh, faith most rare! (<i>Speaks.</i>) Had you no doubts?</p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Why should I doubt? We are<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Betrothed—the same forever, near or far!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—He knew my trust<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was boundless as his own.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">But still you must<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In reason have known something—must have heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or else imagined—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">For three months no word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until this letter; from its page I learned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That my poor Willie had but just returned<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_031" id="page_031"></a>{31}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the brigade, when struck down unaware.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seems he had been three months absent.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">—Where?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They did not say. I hope to bear him home<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To-morrow; for in truth I scarce could come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So ill my mother, and so full my hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of household cares; but, Willie understands.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Ciel!</i> faith like this is senseless—or sublime!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which is it?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks</i>). But three months—so long a time—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Were it three years, ’twould be the same. The troth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We plighted, freely, lovingly, from both<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our true hearts came.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">And may as freely go—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such things have happened! But I will not show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One glimpse of doubt to mar the simple trust<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She cherishes; as soon my hand could thrust<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A knife in the dove’s breast.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_032" id="page_032"></a>{32}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i2">(<i>Speaks.</i>) You’ll find him, dear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All will go well; take courage. Not severe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His wound?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Not unto death; but fever bound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His senses. When the troops moved on, they found<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A kindly woman near by Benton’s Mill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there he lies, poor Willie, up above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her small loft, calling, in tones that thrill:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Oh, come to me, my love, my love, my love!”—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here is his picture.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">What! ’tis Meredith!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The girl is mad!—Give it me forthwith!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How came you by it?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Madam, you will break<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chain. I beg—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Here is some strange mistake.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This picture shows me Meredith Reid.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Yes, Reid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is Willie’s name; and Meredith, indeed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_033" id="page_033"></a>{33}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is his name also—Meredith Wilmer. I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like not long names, so gave him, lovingly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pet name Willie.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">O ye Powers above!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The “pet name Willie!” Would you try to chain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Phœbus Apollo with your baby-love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And baby-titles? Scarce can I refrain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My hands from crushing you!—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">You are that girl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, the boy’s fancy. Yes, I heard the tale<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He tried to tell me; but it was so old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So very old! I stopped him with a curl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Laid playfully across his lips. “Nay, hold!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enough, enough,” I said; “of what avail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rest? I know it all; ’tis e’er the same<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old story of the country lad’s first flame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That burns the stubble out. Now by this spell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forget it all.” He did; and it was well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He did.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Never! oh, never! Though you prove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The whole as clear as light, I’d ne’er receive<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One word. As in my life, so I believe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Willie!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_034" id="page_034"></a>{34}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Fool and blind! your God above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knows that I lie not when I say that he<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You dwarf with your weak names is mine, mine, mine!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He worships me—dost hear? He worships <i>me</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Me only! What art thou, a feeble child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That <i>thou</i> shouldst speak of loving? Haste, aside,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lest we should drown you in the torrent wild<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of our strong meeting loves, that may not bide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor know your dying, even; feeble weed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tossed on the shore—[<i>The maiden faints.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i15">Why could I not divine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The truth at first? [<i>Fans her.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i15">Fierce love, why shouldst thou kill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This little one? The child hath done no ill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poor wounded, broken blossom. I should pour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My gentlest pity—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>recovering</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Madam, thanks; no more<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do I require your aid.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">How calm she seems,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How cold her far-off eyes! Poor little heart.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pity of it! all its happy dreams,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_035" id="page_035"></a>{35}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a whole life’s idolatry to part<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In one short moment.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Child, let us be friends;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not ours the fault, it is the work of Fate.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now, before your hapless journey ends,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Say, in sweet charity, you do not hate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Me for my love. Trust me, I’ll tend him well;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As mine own heart’s blood, will I care for him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till strong again. Then shall he come and tell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The whole to you—the cup from dregs to brim—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">How, with undoubting faith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the young fancy that he thought was love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For you, he came a-down the glittering path<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Washington society; above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The throng I saw his noble Saxon head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sunny with curls, towering among the rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In calm security—scorn that is bred<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of virtue, and that largeness which your West<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With its wide sweep of fields gives to her sons—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A certain careless largeness in the look,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As though a thousand prairie-miles it took<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within its easy range.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Ah! blindly runs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our fate. We met, we two so far apart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In every thought, in life, in soul, in heart—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our very beings clashed. He, fair, severe;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_036" id="page_036"></a>{36}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I, dark and free; his days a routine clear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lighted by conscience; I, in waking dream<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of colors, music, warmth, the scents of flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sweep of velvet, and the diamond’s gleam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A cloud of romance heavy on the air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boudoir curtained from the light of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where all the highest came to call me fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And whispered vows I laughed in scorn away.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was it my fault that Nature chose to give<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The splendid beauty of this hair, these eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This creamy skin? And if the golden prize<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of fortune came to me, should I not live<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the rich luxury my being craved?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I give my word, I no more thought of time—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whether ’twas squandered, trifled with, or saved,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than the red rose in all her damask prime.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each day I filled with joys full to the brim—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rarest fruits and wines, the costliest lace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ecstasy of music, every whim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For some new folly gratified, the grace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of statues idealized in niches, touch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of softest fabrics. Ah! the world holds much<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For those who love her; and I never heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In all my happy glowing life one word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against her, till—he came!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">We met, we loved,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_037" id="page_037"></a>{37}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like flash of lightning from a cloudless sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So sudden, strange, the white intensity—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Intensity resistless! Swift there moved<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within his heart a force unknown before,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That swept his being from that early faith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across a sea, and cast it on the shore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prone at my feet.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">He minded not if death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came, so he could but gaze upon my face.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">—But, bending where he lay (the youthful grace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of his strong manhood, in humility<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prone, by love’s lightnings), so I bended me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down to his lips, and gave him—all!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Sweet girl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgive me for the guiltless robbery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgive him, swept by fateful Destiny!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He spoke of one, the child-love of his youth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I told of my child-marriage. But, in truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No barrier, had it been a thousand-fold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stronger than boyish promise, e’er could hold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Natures like ours!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">You see it, do you not?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You understand it all.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—I had forgot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But this the half-way town; the train runs slow,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_038" id="page_038"></a>{38}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">No better place than this. But, ere you go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give me one silent hand-clasp, little pearl.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I ask you not to speak, for words would seem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too hard, too hard. Yet, some time, when the dream<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of girlhood has dissolved before the heat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of real love, you will forgive me, sweet.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I fail to comprehend you. Go? Go where?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Back to your home; here waits the north-bound train;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twill bear you safely. To go on were pain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most needless—cruel.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">I am not aware<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I have said aught of returning. Vain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your false and evil story. I have heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of such as you; but never, on my word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As lady and as Christian, did I think<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find myself thus side by side with one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who flaunts her ignominy on the brink<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of dark perdition!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Ah! my Willie won<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The strong heart’s victory when he turned away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From your devices, as I <i>know</i> he turned.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_039" id="page_039"></a>{39}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Although you follow him in this array<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of sin, I <i>know</i> your evil smiles he spurned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With virtuous contempt—the son of prayers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The young knight of the church! My bosom shares<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His scorn; take back your ring, false woman. Go!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Move from my side.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Dear Heaven, now I know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How pitiless these Christians!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Unfledged girl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your little, narrow, pharisaic pride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deserves no pity; jealousy’s wild whirl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Excuse might be, since that is born of love;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But <i>this</i> is scorn, and, by the God above,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll set you in your place!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Do <i>you</i> decide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The right and wrong for this broad world of ours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poor little country-child, whose feeble eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Veiled o’er with prejudice are yet so wise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That they must judge the earth, and call it good<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or evil as it follows their small rules,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The petty, narrow dogmas of the schools<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That hang on Calvin!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Doubtless prairie-flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Esteem the hot-house roses evil all;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_040" id="page_040"></a>{40}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But yet I think not that the roses should<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go into mourning therefor!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Oh, the small,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most small foundation for a vast conceit!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is it a merit that you never learned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But one side of this life? Because you dwelt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down in a dell, there were no uplands sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No breezy mountain-tops? <i>You</i> never yearned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For freedom, born a slave! You never felt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The thrill of rapture, the wild ecstasy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of mere existence that strong natures know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deep and long-drawn breaths, the burning glow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of blood that sunward leaps; but, in your dell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You said: “This is the world. If all, like me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Walked on this one straight line, all would go well!”<br /></span> -<span class="i15">O fool! O blind!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O little ant toiling along the ground!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You cannot see the eagle on the wind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soaring aloft; and so you go your round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And measure out the earth with your small line,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An inch for all infinity! “Thus mine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Doth make the measure; thus it is.”<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Proud girl!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You call me evil. There is not a curl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In all this loosened hair which is not free<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From sin as your smooth locks. Turn; look at me!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_041" id="page_041"></a>{41}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I flout you with my beauty! From my youth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside my mother’s chair, by God’s own truth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve led a life as sinless as your own.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your innocence is ignorance; but I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have seen the Tempter on his shining throne,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said him nay. You craven weaklings die<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From fear of dangers I have faced! I hold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those lives far nobler that contend and win<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The close, hard fight with beautiful, fierce Sin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than those that go untempted to their graves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deeming the ignorance that haply saves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their souls, some splendid wisdom of their own!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">You fold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yourself in scornful silence? I could smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O childish heart, so free from worldly guile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were I not angered by your littleness.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">You judge my dress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The garb of sin? Listen. I sat and heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The opera; by chance there fell a word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behind me from a group of men who fill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Night after night my box. My heart stood still.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I asked—they told the name. “Wounded,” they said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A letter in the journal here.” I read,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faced them with level eyes; they did not know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But wondered, caught the truth, to see me go<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_042" id="page_042"></a>{42}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Straight to my carriage. “Drive! The midnight train.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We reached it, breathless.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Had I worn fair white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A ballroom-robe, I’d do the same to gain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One moment more of time.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">And by what right—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are you his wife?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">I am not; but to-night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall be, if I live. Your scorn, poor child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is thrown away. Bound by his soldier’s oath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would not keep him. No Omphale I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though he be Hercules. We plighted troth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then, when called, he went from me—to die<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If need be. I remember that I smiled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When they marched by!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Love for my country burns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within my heart; but this was love for him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could not brook him, one who backward turns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For loving wife; his passion must not dim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The soldier’s courage stern. Then I had wealth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The golden wealth left me by that old man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who called me wife for four short months; by stealth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He won me, but a child; the quiet plan<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_043" id="page_043"></a>{43}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was deftly laid. I do not blame him now.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My mother dead—one kind thought was to save<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My budding youth from harm. The thoughtless vow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I made was soon dissevered by the grave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I was left alone. Since then I’ve breathed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All pleasures as the flowers breathe in the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At heart as innocent as they; red-wreathed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My careless life with roses, till the one<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came! Then the red turned purple deep, the hope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Found itself love; the rose was heliotrope.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">There needed much<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To do with lawyers’ pens ere I could give<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My hand again; so that dear, longed-for touch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was set by me for the full-blooming day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When Peace shall drive the demon War away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forever. I was wrong. Oh, let him live,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kind God! Love shall be wronged no more—no more.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All my own heart’s life will I gladly pour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For one small hour of his.—Wait—wait—I fly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To thee, my love, on swiftest wings! Thy cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The depths of grief too hot for tears doth move:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Oh, come to me, my love, my love, my love!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It was not you he called!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_044" id="page_044"></a>{44}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ah! yes.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">He is<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Not</i> false; I’ll ne’er believe it, woman.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">His<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The falseness of the pine-tree, felled, uptorn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the great flood, and onward madly borne<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the wild, foaming torrent miles away.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No doubt he loved the violet that grew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the still woods ere the floods came; he knew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not then of roses!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Cruel eyes, I say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But this to all your flashings—you have lied<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me in all!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Look, then, here at my side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His letters—read them. Did he love me? Read!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aha! you flush, you tremble, there’s no need<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To show you more; the strong words blanch your cheek.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See, here his picture; could I make it speak,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How it would kill you! Yes, I wear it there<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_045" id="page_045"></a>{45}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Close to my heart. Know you this golden hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That lies beside it?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Should he now confess<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The whole—yes, tell me all your tale was true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would not leave him to you, sorceress!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d snatch him from the burning—I would sue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His pardon down from heaven. I shall win<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Him yet, false woman, and his grievous sin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall be forgiven.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Bows her head upon her hands.</i>) O God let him die<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rather than live for one who doth belie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All I have learned of Thee!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="c"><i>Train stops suddenly.</i>—<i>Enter</i> <span class="smcap">Conductor</span>.</p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Conductor.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">The bridge is down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The train can go no farther. Morgan’s band<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were here last night! There is a little town<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Off on the right, and there, I understand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You ladies can find horses. Benton’s Mill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is but a short drive from Waunona Hill.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can I assist you?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thanks; I must not wait. [<i>Exit.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_046" id="page_046"></a>{46}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes; that my basket—that my shawl. O Fate!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How burdened are we women! Sir, you are<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most kind; and may I trouble you thus far?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Find me the fleetest horses; I must reach<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waunona Hill this night. I do beseech<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All haste; a thousand dollars will I give<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For this one ride. [<i>Exeunt.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">A Soldier.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Say, boys, I’d like to live<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where I could see that woman! I could fight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A regiment of rebels in her sight—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Couldn’t you?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Others.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes—yes! [<i>Exeunt omnes.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_DRIVE" id="THE_DRIVE"></a><i>THE DRIVE.</i></h2> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O fair Kentucky! border-land of war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou rovest like a gypsy at thy will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Between the angry South and stubborn North.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_047" id="page_047"></a>{47}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across thy boundaries many times from far<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sweep Morgan’s men, the troopers bold who fill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ohio with alarm; then, marching forth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In well-drilled ranks with flag, and fife, and drum,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From camp and town the steady blue-coats come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">March east, march west, march north, march south, and find<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No enemy except the lawless wind.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No sooner gone—Lo! presto through the glen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is heard the midnight ride of Morgan’s men:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They ford the rivers by the light of stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ringing hoofs sound through the mountain-pass;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They draw not rein until their glad huzzas<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are echoing through the land of the Blue Grass.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—O lovely land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O swell of grassy billows far and near,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O wild, free elms, whose swaying arms expand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if to clasp me, hold my love as dear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As thine own son! I hasten to his side—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye roads, lie smooth; ye streams, make safe the ford;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O chivalrous Kentucky, help the bride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though thou hast wounded with thy rebel sword<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The foeman bridegroom!<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">. . . . . . . . . .</span><br /> -<span class="i0">.... Can it be that girl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who rides in front? I thought her left behind<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_048" id="page_048"></a>{48}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that small town. <i>Ciel!</i> would I could hurl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The slim thing down this bank! Would I could bind<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Those prim, long-fingered, proper hands of hers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behind her drooping, narrow-shouldered back,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And send her home! A heart like that transfers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its measured, pale affections readily,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If the small rules it calleth piety<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Step in between them. Otherwise, the crack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of doom would not avail to break the cord<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which is not love so much as given word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fealty, that conscientiousness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which weigheth all things be they more or less,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From fold of ribbon to a marriage-vow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With self-same scales of duty. Shall I now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ride on and pass her—for her horse will fail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the hour is out? Of what avail<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her journey?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Driver, press forward.—Nay, stop—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Aside.</i>) O what a child am I to waver thus!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know not how to be ungenerous,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though I may try—God knows I truly tried.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What’s this upon my hand? Did a tear drop?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) By your side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behold me, maiden; will you ride with me?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My horses fleet and strong.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_049" id="page_049"></a>{49}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I thank you—no.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She said me nay; then why am I not free<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To leave her here, and let my swift steeds go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On like the wind?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Ho! driver—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Aside.</i>) But, alas!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cannot.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Child, my horses soon will pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In spite of me; they are so fleet they need<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The curb to check them in their flying speed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ours the same journey: why should we not ride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Together?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Never!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">Then I must abide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By your decision.—Driver, pass.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Thinking.</i>) I take<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her at her word. In truth, for her own sake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twere charity to leave her, hasten on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Find my own love, and with him swift be gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere she can reach him; for his ardor strong<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_050" id="page_050"></a>{50}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i15">(Curbed, loyal heart, so long!),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heightened by fever, will o’ersweep all bounds,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fall around me in a fiery shower<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of passion’s words.— And yet—this inner power—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This strange, unloving justice that surrounds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My careless conscience, <i>will</i> not let me go!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Ho!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Driver, turn back.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">—Maiden, I ask again—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cannot take advantage. Come with me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That horse will fail you soon—ask; both these men<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will tell you so.—Come, child—we will agree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ride shall count as naught; nay, when we reach<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The farm-house, all shall be as though no speech<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had ever passed between us—we will meet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside his couch as strangers.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) There’s defeat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For thee, O whispering tempter!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>to the men</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Is it true?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will the horse fail?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">One of the Men.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_051" id="page_051"></a>{51}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Madam, then with you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I needs must ride.—I pray you take my share<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of payment; it were more than I could bear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be indebted to you.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nay—the sum<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was but a trifle.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Aside.</i>) Now forgive me, truth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But was it not a trifle to such wealth—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such wealth as mine?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Heard you that distant drum<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Borne on the wind a moment? Ah! our youth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is thrilled with the great pulses of this war.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How fast we live—how full each crowded hour<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of hot excitements! Naught is done by stealth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The little secrecies of other days<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thrown to the winds; the clang and charge afar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the red battle-field, the news that sways<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now to, now fro, ’twixt victory and defeat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The distant cry of “Extra!” down the street<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the gray dawnings, and our breathless haste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To read the tidings—all this mighty power<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hath burned in flame the day of little things,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_052" id="page_052"></a>{52}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Curled like a scroll—and now we face the kings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The terrible, the glorious gods of war.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—The maid forgets her shyness; wherefore waste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One moment when the next may call him forth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ne’er to return to her? The dear old North<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May take her lover—but he shall not go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With lips unkissed to meet his Southern foe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her last embrace will cheer him on his round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now back, now forth, over the frozen ground<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the long night.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—And when the hasty word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Only one day; be ready, love,” is heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The soft consent is instant, and there swells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amid the cannonade faint wedding-bells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From distant village; then, as swift away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The soldier bridegroom rides—he may not stay.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she?—She would not keep him, though the tears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blind her sweet eyes that follow him, and fears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crowd her faint heart and take away her breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As on her white robe falls the shade of Death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That waits for him at Shiloh!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">O these days!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When we have all gone back to peaceful ways,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall we not find sweet Peace a little dull?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—You do not speak.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_053" id="page_053"></a>{53}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Madam, my heart is full<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of other thoughts.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Of love?—Pray—what is love?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How should a woman love?—Although we hate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each other well, we need not try to prove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our hate by silence—for there is a fate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Against it in us women; speak we must,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ever shall until we’re turned to dust,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nay—I’m not sure but even then we talk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From grave to grave under the churchyard-walk—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose bones last longest—whose the finest shroud—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And—is there not a most unseemly crowd<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In pauper’s corner yonder?<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—You are shocked?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You do not see, then, that I only mocked<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At my own fears—as those poor French lads sang<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their gayest songs at the red barricade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clear on the air their boyish voices rang<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In chorus, even while the bayonet made<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An end of them.—He may be suffering now—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He may be calling—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">There! I’ve made a vow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To keep on talking. So, then—tell me, pray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How should a woman love?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_054" id="page_054"></a>{54}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">I can but say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How I do love.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And how?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With faith and prayer.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I, too; my faith is absolute. We share<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That good in common. I believe his love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is great as mine, and mine—oh, could I prove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My love by dying for him, far too small<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The test; I’d give my love, my soul, my all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In life, in death, in immortality,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Content in hell itself (if there be hells—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which much I doubt)—content, so I could be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With him!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">Is it a woman’s tongue that tells<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This blasphemy? When I said faith, I meant<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A faith in God.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">And God is love! He sent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This love that fills my heart. Oh, most divine—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, nearest to him of all earthly things,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_055" id="page_055"></a>{55}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">A love that passeth self—a love like mine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That passeth understanding. The bird sings<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because it is the only way he knows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To praise his Maker; and a love that flows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like mine is worship, too—a hymn that rolls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up to the God of Love, who gave us souls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To love with. Then the hidden sacrifice;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It formed a part of worship once, and I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do hold it now the part that deepest lies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In woman’s love, the dim sanctuary<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Behind the veil, holy of holies, kept<br /></span> -<span class="i0">E’en from the one she loves: all told, except<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This mystic feeling which she may not know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How to express in words—the martyr’s glow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Idealized—the wish to give him joy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through her own suffering, and so destroy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All part that self might play—to offer pure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her love to her heart’s idol. Strange, obscure,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sacred, but mighty, is this longing; I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can feel though not define it. I would die<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make him happy!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">As his happiness<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Depends on me, then can you do no less<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than yield him to me—if you love him thus.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_056" id="page_056"></a>{56}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“As,” said she? Heart, but this is fabulous,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This calm security of hers!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Why, child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hast never heard of passion, and its wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Impetuous, unreasoning assault<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On souls that know not their own depths? The fault<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not his: he was but young, he did not know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Himself. Might he not love me even though<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou wert the best? Have pity! I appeal<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To all the woman in thee. Dost thou feel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That one touch of his hand would call the blood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out from thy heart in an o’erwhelming flood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To meet it?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Nay, I know not what you speak.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thou dost not, that I see. Thy pearly cheek<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Keeps its fair white.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Sweet child, he’s that and more<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me. Ah, let me kneel; thus I implore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That thou wouldst yield him to me—all the right<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His boyhood promise gave thee.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_057" id="page_057"></a>{57}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">In the sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Heaven we are betrothed; I cannot break<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My word.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i9">Oh, not for mine, but for <i>his</i> sake!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He loves me!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">Only madness, that will burn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And die to ashes; but, the fever past,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old, pure love will steadfastly return<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And take its rightful place.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">But should it last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This fever-madness? should he ask your grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And say he loved me best?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Then, to his face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d answer, Never! What! leave him to sin?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And what the sin?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">You! you! You have no faith,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_058" id="page_058"></a>{58}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">No creed, that I can learn. The Bible saith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All such are evil.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Why did I begin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such hopeless contest?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Child, if he should lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before us now, and one said he must die<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or love me, wouldst thou yield?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Never; as dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He would be in God’s hands; living—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In mine.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That is, in atheism.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Have I said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aught atheistical? Because my faith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is broader than its own, this conscience saith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am an atheist! Ah, child, is thine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A better faith? Yet, be it what it may,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should he now lie before us here, and say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He loved thee best, I’d yield him though my heart<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_059" id="page_059"></a>{59}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should stop—though I should die. Yea, for his sake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make him happy, I would even take<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Annihilation!—let the vital spark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Called soul be turned to nothing.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Far apart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our motives; mine is clear with duty—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Dark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And heavy mine with love.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">You talk of death<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With frequent phrase, as though a little thing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A matter merely of the will and breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It were to face the judgment, and the King<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who has not summoned you. Your flippant tongue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rolls out its offers as a song is sung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, both mean nothing; for the chance to die<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For one we love, that glorious gift, comes now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But rarely in this life that you and I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must bear our part in. Thus, no empty vow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do <i>I</i> repeat; and yet, I surely know,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At duty’s call right calmly could I go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up the red scaffold’s stairs.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_060" id="page_060"></a>{60}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">I well believe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thee, steadfast maiden-voice. Nay, I conceive<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>My</i> love, <i>thy</i> duty, are alike—the same<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Self-sacrifice under a various name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">According to our natures. I would yield,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thou refuse to yield, from the same love;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’d have him happy here, and thou—above.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For thus we look at life.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">The book is sealed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That holds our fate—we may not look within;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But this I know, that, be it deadly sin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or highest good, he loves me!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">There are loves—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And loves!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">So be it. All this word-work proves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nothing. Then let it end. Though there’s a charm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In speech—but you are tired. ’Twill be no harm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To rest you on my shoulder, though its creed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Poor shoulder!) is not orthodox.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Indeed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I need not rest.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_061" id="page_061"></a>{61}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Well, then, I’m half asleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Myself, and you the silent watch may keep.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Thinking.</i>) I’ve whiled the time away; but, thou dear God,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who made me, how with bleeding feet have trod<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The toiling moments through my heart! I pray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(For I believe that prayer may aid the soul,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though not the body nor the fixed control<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Nature) that his love may hold its sway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">E’en as I saw him last, when, at my feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He lavished his young heart in burning tide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of loving words. Oh, not for mine own joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But his, I pray this prayer; do thou destroy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All my own part in it.—Ah, love, full sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall be our meeting. Lo! the longed-for bride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes—of her own accord. There is no bliss,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even in heaven, greater than the kiss<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I do keep for thee!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">O God, thy will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be done—yes, first of all, be done! (Bide still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou wicked, rebel heart!) Yet, O Lord, grant<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This grace to me, a lowly supplicant.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My mind is vexèd, evil thoughts do rage<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_062" id="page_062"></a>{62}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within my soul; O Merciful, assuage<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The suffering I endure!—If it is true<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My poor boy loves this woman—and what is<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is ever for the best—create anew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her soul that it may surely leaven his<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With holiness. Oh, stretch Thy mighty arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And win her to Thy fold, that she may be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A godly woman, graced with piety,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turned from the error of her ways, the harm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all her worldliness, the sinful charm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of her fair face (if it be fair, though I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Think her too brown) changed by humility<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To decorous sweetness.—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Lord, look in my heart;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I may not know myself; search every part,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And give me grace to say that I will yield<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My love to hers if Thy will stands revealed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his swift preference.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Yet, in pity, hear—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Change her, Lord—make her good! [<i>Weeps.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Is that a tear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On her soft cheek? She has her little griefs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, as the children have; their small beliefs<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_063" id="page_063"></a>{63}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are sometimes brought to naught—no fairies live,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dolls are sawdust!—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Love, I do forgive<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your boyish fancy, for she’s lily fair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But no more could content you now than dew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could hope to fill Niagara with its rare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fine drops that string the grass-blade’s shining hue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon the brink.—Dearest, I call! Oh, see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How all my being rushes toward thee! Wait,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">E’en though before thine eyes bright heaven’s gate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let out its light: angels might envy thee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Such love as I shall give thee—wait! oh, wait!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_FARM-HOUSE" id="THE_FARM-HOUSE"></a><i>THE FARM-HOUSE.</i></h2> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">The</span> sun is setting, we have passed the mill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some time; the house is near Waunona Hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the road smooth this way—which doth account<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the discrepancy of names. The gleam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the low sun shines out beneath that mass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of purple thunder-cloud; when we surmount<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This little swell of land, its slanting beam<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_064" id="page_064"></a>{64}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will light up all the lances of the grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The steely hue, the blue of the Blue Grass.<br /></span> -<span style="margin-left: 4em;">. . . . . . . . . .</span><br /> -<span class="i0">That is the house off on the right; I know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By intuition.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It may hold—the worst!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Art faint?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">’Twill pass. Lady, I enter first—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">First and alone!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">Child, if I thought his heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Longed for the sight of you, I’d let you go;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, I would make you! As it is—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">But no,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It cannot be.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>clasping her hands</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Lord, give me strength! I yield;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go you the first. Ah! [<i>Sobs.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Yours the nobler part;<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>I</i> cannot yield. (And yet it is for him<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_065" id="page_065"></a>{65}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hold this “cannot” firm.) What might you wield<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With that unflinching conscience-power! See, dim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mine eyes—<br /></span> -<span class="i12">There; we will go together—thus!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God help us both! [<i>They enter the house.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i8">Yes, we have come, we two,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His nearest, dearest. Is it perilous,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fever? Where—above? That stair? We go—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come, child—come, child.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Dear ladies, you should know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Child, must I wait for you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here at his door!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">I come; but something cold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has touched my heart.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_066" id="page_066"></a>{66}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then stay, coward!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Nay, hold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I come. [<i>They mount the stairs together.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Crying out above.</i>) But he is dead—my Willie!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>above</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Fate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’ve gained the day at last! Yes, he is dead!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BY_THE_DEAD" id="BY_THE_DEAD"></a><i>BY THE DEAD.</i></h2> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">He</span> died last night at three—quite easily.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Alone?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A surgeon from the camp was here.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_067" id="page_067"></a>{67}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where is the man?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Gone back.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Send for him.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">See,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here is a trifle; though it cannot clear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our debt to you, yet take it.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">But you give<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Too much.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Keep it.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>kneeling by the bedside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">O Willie! can I live<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Without you? Love, my love, why are you dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I alive? O noble, golden head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose every curl I know, how still you lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On this poor pillow, and how dreamlessly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You sleep! But waken now; look on me, dear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Open those close-shut eyes, for I am here—<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_068" id="page_068"></a>{68}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yes, here all this long way from home. Oh, speak—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Speak to me, Willie.—Ah, how cold his cheek—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How icy cold! O God! he’s dead, he’s dead!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes, he is dead, dead as King David. Truth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He was right handsome for a Yankee youth—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rode his horse well.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I love you, Meredith.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What’s this upon the table near his hand? [<i>Opens the package.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">My picture—yes, my letters—all! Herewith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know—I know he loved me!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>thinking</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Cover worn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Creased in its folds, unopened, and forlorn—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yes, I remember it. I would not look<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Within;—unopened since that day.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">He took<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The poor thing forth with dying loyalty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To send to her.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_069" id="page_069"></a>{69}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">O Lord, I understand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy purpose; ’twas to try my faith. I kneel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To thank thee that mercy doth reveal<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The whole to my poor heart. He loved me—me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Me only!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i9">Would you like to see the wound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here in his arm?—Why, if she hasn’t swooned!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Take her below, and care for her, poor child!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">[<i>Exit woman, carrying the maiden in her arms.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Brain, art thou wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Distraught, that thou canst all things calmly hear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And answer, when my pulses reel, my heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stands still, and cold through every vital part<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Death breathes his icy breath?<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Oh, my own love!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I clasp thee in my arms, come back to me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O ice-cold lips I kiss, ye are as dear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As ever! Come! Thy idol waits for thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waits—weeps.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Dost thou not hear me there above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where thou hast gone? Come back and take the bride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who nestles weeping, longing, at the side<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_070" id="page_070"></a>{70}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of thy deserted body. Oh! most fair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy earthly tenement, the golden hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Curls as when my poor fingers twined it last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy head upon my breast. O brownèd cheek!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can I not warm thee with mine own? Oh, speak—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Speak to me, Meredith!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Poor wounded arm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dear blood; here will I hold thee close and warm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon my heart. Dost thou not feel me now?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now? And now? Do I not hold thee fast?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hast thou not longed for me?<br /></span> -<span class="i15">I gave my vow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be thine own. See! I am come. My hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I lay in thine. Oh, speak to me! Command<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My every breath; full humbly I obey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The true wife longs to feel a master’s sway,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Longs to do homage, so her idol prove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ruler—nay, despot of her willing love.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Didst thou not hear me whisper while she spake.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I love thee—oh, I love thee, Meredith?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would not that her childish grief should break<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy peace up in thy heaven; even there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou longest for my love, and near the stair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where souls come up from earth thou’rt standing now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Watching for me. O darling, from thy brow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I catch the radiance!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_071" id="page_071"></a>{71}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i15">She is not thine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou art not hers. The boyish pledge wherewith<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She strives to hold thee was the radiancy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of early dawn, which now the mighty sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hath swept away in fervent heat; nor thee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor her it binds. Her pretty youth will run<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its swift course to some other love; Fate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ne’er lets such sweet maids pine, though they may try;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A few months lent to tearful constancy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The next to chastened sorrow, slow decline<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To resignation; then, the well-masked bait<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of making some one happy, though at cost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of sweet self-sacrifice, which soon is lost<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In that content which, if not real love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looks strangely like it! But why should I prove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What thou dost know already, freed from time<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And finite bonds, my darling?<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Love sublime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Art thou not God? Then let him down to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For one short moment. See! in agony<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I cling to the cold body; let him touch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Me once with this dear hand; it is not much<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I ask—one clasp, one word.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">What! nothing? Then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I call down vengeance on this God of men<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_072" id="page_072"></a>{72}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who makes us at his will, and gives us hearts<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only to rend them in a hundred parts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And see them quiver—bleed! I, creature, dare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To call aloud for justice; my despair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our great far-off Creator doth arraign<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before the bar to answer for the pain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I suffer now. It is too much—too much!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O woe! woe! woe! the human soul can such<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Intensity of sorrow not withstand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, lifting up on high its fettered hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can only cry aloud in agony,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And blindly, wildly curse its God and die!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">How dare you take,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You Death, my love away from me? The old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The weak, the loveless, the forlorn, were there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In crowds, and none to miss them. But your cold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And heartless eye did mark that he was fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that I loved him? From your dreadful hold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I snatch my darling, and he yet shall wake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From out your sleep by my caresses. See,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See how I love him! Ah, shall I not win<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His life back with my lips, that lovingly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do cling to his? And, though you do begin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your icy work, these arms shall keep him warm—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nay, more: my loving verily disarm<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_073" id="page_073"></a>{73}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">E’en you, O King of Terrors! You shall turn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And give him back to me; a heart shall burn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under your ribs at last from very sight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of my fierce, tearless grief.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—O sorry plight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of my poor darling in this barren room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where only his gold curls do light the gloom!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But we will change all that. This evening, dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall be our bridal: wilt thou take me, here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thus?—in this array—this falling hair—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crushed robes? And yet, believe me, I am fair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As ever.<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Love, love, love! oh, speak to me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will not listen in my misery<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If thy heart beat—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">God! it is cold!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">[<i>Falls to the floor.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="c"><i>Enter the</i> <span class="smcap">Surgeon</span>.</p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Art ill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Madam?—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>rising</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i9">Thanks, sir. But sorrow cannot kill.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would that it could! Nay, I sit by his side—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus. Now tell all—all—all.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_074" id="page_074"></a>{74}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">You cannot hide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The deadly faintness that has paled your cheek;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let me get—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Nothing. Nothing can avail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Good sir; my very heart’s blood has turned pale.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Struck by God’s lightning, do you talk to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of faintness? Only tell your tale—speak, speak;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You saw him die?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">I did; right tranquilly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He passed away this morning, with your name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon his lips—for you are Helena?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">I saw your picture.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Aside.</i>) Yes, the same.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hair, eyes. What Titian tints!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) He made me lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your letters and your picture on his heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before he died; he would not from them part<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For e’en one moment.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_075" id="page_075"></a>{75}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Lift them not, they’re mine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My hand alone must touch the holy shrine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of love and death where the poor relics lie—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Darling (<i>bends, and kisses the letters</i>), because you loved them!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Let them die,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go to the grave with him, there on his breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where I would gladly die too—be at rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forever.—And he spake of me?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">He said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That you would come, for he had sent you word.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I ne’er received it; ’twas by chance I heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A passing chance.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The lines were down—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">And may<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They never rise again that failed that day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And left him dying here! Go on; he said—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_076" id="page_076"></a>{76}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That you would come, and grieved that o’er his head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The turf might close ere you could reach his side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And give him one last kiss.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">And then—he died.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No more?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i9">No more. Ah, yes, one other thing:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Short time before, he feebly bade me bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That package on the table—but ’tis torn—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some one has opened it! It looked well worn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In old, unbroken foldings when I brought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It from his satchel. Who could thus have wrought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On other’s property?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">The owner.—Then<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Surgeon.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i9">To give it you, for you would know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its history, and where it swift should go;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The name was writ within.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Yes, love; amen!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be it according to thy wish.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_077" id="page_077"></a>{77}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Speaks.</i>) Pray take<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This fee, good sir. I would that for his sake—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your kindness to him—I could send your name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ringing through all the West in silver fame.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At dawn, you said, the burial? Then leave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Me here alone with him. I well believe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You’ll show me further kindness. Speak no word<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beyond your doctor’s art to that poor child<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who weeps below. I would not that she heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Aught more of grief.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">[<i>Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Surgeon</span>.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Ah! all my passion wild<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has gone; now come the softening woman tears.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgive me, great Creator, that I spake<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In my sharp agony. O do thou take<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bitterness from out my soul; I know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Naught, but thou knowest all! Then let my woe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The poor blind woe we short-lived mortals bear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be my sad plea.—<br /></span> -<span class="i8">I knew, through my despair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You loved me to the last. Death had no fears<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For you, my love; you met him with my name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As talisman of the undying flame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That leaps o’er the black chasm of the grave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And mounts to heaven. But I will not rave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When you died softly.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_078" id="page_078"></a>{78}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Ah! you love me there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As well as here. God never made me fair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For nothing; now, I know the gift he gave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I might take my place with you at last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Equal in loveliness, though years had passed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Since you first breathed the air above the skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The beauty-giving air of paradise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair are you now, my love, but not like me:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mine is the goddess-bloom, the rarity<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of perfect loveliness; yours, the bright charm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of strong young manhood, whose encircling arm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could bend me like a reed. Oh, for one clasp<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of that strong arm!—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Hist! was not that the hasp<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the old door below? She comes; I hear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her light step on the stair.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Darling, no fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Need trouble you upon your couch; to me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sacred trust this gentle girl shall be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through life. Did you not love her once?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>entering</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">I pray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forgiveness thus to leave you here so long;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I did not mean it, but I swooned away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before I knew it.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_079" id="page_079"></a>{79}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Thanks. There was no wrong;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I liked the vigil.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>going to the bedside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i8">Sweet those eyes—the brow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How calm! I would not bring life to him now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">E’en if I could; gone to his God—at rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From all earth’s toil.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Dear love, upon thy breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I lay my hand; I yield thee back to Him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who gave thee to me; and, if thou hast wrought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wrong to our troth in deed, or word, or thought,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I now forgive thee. Sleep in peace; the dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dark grave has its awaking.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">As the hart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Longed for the water-brooks, so have I yearned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For token, Willie, that thy love returned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me at last. Lo! now I can depart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In peace.—My picture, letters! Thou wast true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wast true to me, thank God!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Turning.</i>) Madam, to you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I owe apology.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Never! But throw<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_080" id="page_080"></a>{80}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your gentle arms around me—thus. And so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give me a blessing.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">But I’ve robbed you—you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who loved him also; though to me was due<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This love of his; at least—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Sweet doubter, yes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I grant thee all. But, as I kneel, O bless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This heart that bows before thee; all its sin—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If it be sin—forgive; and take, within<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy pure love, me, thy sister, who must live<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long years—long years! O child, who dost forgive<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More than thou knowest, lay thy sister-hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In blessing!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">Though I do not understand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet will I thus content thee: Now the Lord<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bless thee, and keep thee by his holy word;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Be gracious to thee, that thy faith increase;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lift up his countenance, and give thee peace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now and forever!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i12">Amen. May it prove—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This peace—what thou dost think it.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_081" id="page_081"></a>{81}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">I must go;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The horses wait for me. Now that I know<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s safe with God, the living claim my care.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My mother—ah, full selfish was the love<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That made me leave her so; I could despair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of mine own self, if God were not so good,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long-suffering, and kind.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">O could I stay!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I must reach the train at break of day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I take my letters and the picture.—Should<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your duties call you not so soon, oh wait,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See his dear head laid low by careful hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And say a prayer above the grave.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">O Fate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How doth she innocently torture—rack<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My soul with hard realities! I stand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hear her talk of graves!—O God, the black,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Damp earth over my darling!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>turning to the bedside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Love, farewell!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I kiss thee once.—Lady, you do not mind?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was but once. I would not seem unkind;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would not wound you needlessly.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_082" id="page_082"></a>{82}</span></p> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>aside</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">O swell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Proud heart, to bursting, but gainsay her not!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I know full well that yours the harder lot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dear lady; but, forgive me, he was mine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long, long before. It were too much to ask<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I should not be glad his heart returned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To me, his bride betrothed—to know he yearned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For me before he died. I cannot mask<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My joy because you loved him too.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Nay, thine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All joy that thou canst take; I would not rob<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thee of one little hair’s-breadth.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>laying her head on the pillow</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Oh, farewell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My love! my love! my love! [<i>Weeps.</i><br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Child, do not sob.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come to me—let me hold you; who can tell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps he hears you, though so still. We’ll stand<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_083" id="page_083"></a>{83}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Together by his side—thus, hand-in-hand—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gaze on his calm face.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Woman of the House</span> (<i>below</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The wagon’s here.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Alas! and I must hasten. Kiss me, dear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Indeed, I love you now.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">And I have tried<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make you. [<i>They embrace.—Exit</i> <span class="smcap">Maiden</span>.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>throwing herself down beside the body</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Meredith, art satisfied?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="EARTH_TO_EARTH" id="EARTH_TO_EARTH"></a><i>EARTH TO EARTH.</i></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Wrapped</span> in his cloak, they bore him forth at dawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The soldier dead, dead in his gallant strength,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Young manhood’s prime. The heavy fold withdrawn<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Showed his calm face; while all his rigid length<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lay stiff beneath the covering, the feet<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_084" id="page_084"></a>{84}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turned up to heaven like marble. Breezes played<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soft in his curling hair, the fragrance sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the wild-brier roses incense made,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one bird sang a chant.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Yet recks it not,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This quiet body going to its grave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Feet foremost, folded hands, if the storm rave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or the sun shine. Henceforth nor part nor lot<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hath it with men—the tale is told, all’s o’er;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its place shall know its step, its voice, no more;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its memory shall pass away; its name,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For all its evil or for all its worth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whether bedecked with reverence or blame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall soon be clean forgotten.—<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Earth to earth!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The lady walked alone. Her glorious hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still held its roses crushed; the chill despair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That numbed her being could not dim the light<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all her flashing jewels, nor the bright<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sheen of her draperies.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">The summer sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rose in the east and showed the open grave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Close at her feet; but, ere the work begun—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lowering the clay (O proud humanity!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is this thy end?)—she gentle signal gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_085" id="page_085"></a>{85}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lay the body down, and, by its side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kneeling, kissed brow and lips, fondly as bride<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might kiss; and, as she clung there, secretly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A shining ring left on the cold dead hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And covered it from view; then slowly rose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gave them place.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">But ere the tightening rope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had done its duty, o’er the eastern slope<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rode horsemen, and the little group of those<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who gazed, drew back, and eyed askance the band.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They turned, they drew their reins—a sight to see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Indeed, this lady clad so royally,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone, beside a grave.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">She raised her eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bold leader bared his lofty head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before her to his saddle-bow; the guise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of bold, rough-riding trooper could not hide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gallant grace that thus its homage paid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To so much beauty. At his signal mute,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The little band, Kentucky’s secret pride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His daring followers in many a raid<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many a hair-breadth ’scape, made swift salute,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, all dismounting, honor to the dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Paid silently, not knowing ’twas their own<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bullet by night that laid him there:—so strange<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The riddle of men’s life, its little range<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_086" id="page_086"></a>{86}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thick with crossed fates, though each one stands alone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To mortal eyes.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">The rope slackened, the clay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had reached its final resting-place. Then she<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who loved him best, in all her rich array<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stepped forth, and, kneeling, with her own hands cast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The first clod on his heart. “I yield to thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nature, my only love. Oh, hold him fast<br /></span> -<span class="i15">As sacred trust!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust!’<span class="lftspc">”</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, rising, with her lovely face upturned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the clear sky, where the first sunbeams burned,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I know that my Redeemer lives,” she said;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“He that believes on him, though he were dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet shall he live!”<br /></span> -<span class="i15">And so passed from their sight.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">The troopers ride away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On to the south; the men who fill the grave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hurried shovelfuls in whispers say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“That’s part of Morgan’s band.” And one, a slave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looks down the road, and mutters: “That was him—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Young Cap’en Morgan’s self! These eyes is dim,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But they knows Morgan! Morgan!—what! why, bless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Your hearts, <i>I</i> know him, and I know Black Bess—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twas Bess he rode.”<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_087" id="page_087"></a>{87}</span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">And now the work is done;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On from their northern raid the troopers pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fleet to the south; the grave is filled, and gone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Even the slave.<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Forever still, alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her letters and bright picture on his breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her sparkling spousal-ring on his dead hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The golden-haired young soldier lies at rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where o’er his head the steely shadows pass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far in the fair Kentucky border-land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lovely, rolling land of the Blue Grass.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WASHINGTON" id="WASHINGTON"></a>1864.<br /><br /> -<small><i>WASHINGTON.</i></small></h2> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>with an open letter</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">Married</span>! Nay, now the little vexing fear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That troubled the calm hollow of my grief<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With its small aching is withdrawn, and clear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The certainty—she never loved him. Brief<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her forgetting—brief!—But I will not chide;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_088" id="page_088"></a>{88}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">All happiness go with thee, gentle bride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of my gold a sister’s share!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">To wed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Another, and once his! O golden head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under the grass, how jealous is my heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of thy remembrance! Yet I should be glad<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She loved thee not, for then no evil part<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I played, e’en though unconsciously.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Oh, mad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mad, mad my love for thee! the same to-day—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The same, the same. I could not be a wife—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I could not stop the sun! No love but thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My own, my own! no kiss but thine—no voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To call me those sweet names that memory<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brings back with tears. Ah! had I any choice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I still must love thee down beneath the sod<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More than all else—though grandest soul that God<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had ever made did woo me. Love, my heart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is thine, and ever must be thine; thy name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is branded there!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Yet must I live my life.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Servant</span> (<i>announcing</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Count.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Another? Ah! poor fools. The game<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_089" id="page_089"></a>{89}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Doth while away my time. Yes, I do play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My part with smiles that are not wholly feigned,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For life is strong, and I am young.—There reigned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A queen once, who, though dead, could not lay down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her long-used sceptre; with her jeweled crown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon her head, she sat and meted out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Reward and justice; nor did any doubt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her life was gone. Were not her robes the same—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her jewels bright? And had she not a name<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Borne wide upon the winds for loveliness?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She could not stop—she needs must reign—<i>noblesse</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Oblige</i>! So I.<br /></span> -<span class="i12">But she—married! a wife!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who once was his! Oh, horrible! a life<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of treason to his memory, a long<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lie! But, ah! no, she never loved him. <i>I</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do hold myself as his, and loyally,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Royally, keep my vow.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">Servant.</span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">What shall I say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Madam?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Lady</span> (<i>speaks</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Show in the Count.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_090" id="page_090"></a>{90}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">(<i>Aside.</i>) Ah! well-a-day!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One must do something.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Count</span> (<i>entering</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Madame, je viens</i>—<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="LAKE_ERIE" id="LAKE_ERIE"></a><i>LAKE ERIE.</i></h2> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Maiden</span> (<i>rising from her knees</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><span class="smcap">My</span> marriage-morning! Lord, give me thy grace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the new duties of a wedded life.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">The letters have I burned;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now—the picture. Oh, dear boyish face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One look—the last! Yet had I been thy wife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Willie, I had been true to thee—returned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All thy affection to the full.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">She said<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love was “a sacrifice.” It is; as—thus:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Get thee behind me, Past! [<i>Burns the picture.</i><br /></span> -<span class="i15">—Which one of us<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was truest? But why ask? She wronged the dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With many lovers—nay, her very dress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Showed not one trace of sorrow.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_091" id="page_091"></a>{91}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i15">—I confess<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never thought her fair, although the throng<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do call her so, they tell me.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">—Long, how long<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wore the heavy crape that checked my breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And went about as one who sorroweth;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I did sorrow! Slow months passed, and I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gave every thought to tearful memory;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My grief grew selfish.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Then—he brought his suit—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My mother wept and prayed. What right had I<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To crush two lives? If by the sacrifice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I make them happy, is it not large price<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For my poor, broken years? How earnestly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I strove to do the right!<br /></span> -<span class="i15">The patient fruit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of years of prayer came to my aid, and now<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I stand in bridal white. Lord, hear my vow:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, may I make him happy! Not a thought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of any other love shall mar the troth<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I give for <i>this</i> life. Evils, troubles, naught<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But death, shall part us. Thus the marriage-oath.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But after—<i>then</i>—O Willie!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="cpers"><span class="smcap">The Mother</span> (<i>entering</i>).</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i15">Art thou dressed?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_092" id="page_092"></a>{92}</span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">That’s well, dear one. Never has mother blessed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A child more dutiful, more good.<br /></span> -<span class="i15">Come, love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bridegroom waits.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="c"><small>THE END.</small></p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/deco.png" width="180" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_093" id="page_093"></a>{93}</span></p> - -<hr /> - -<p class="c"><big><big><big>T W O W O M E N :</big></big></big></p> - -<p class="c"><i>A POEM</i>.</p> - -<p class="c"><span class="smcap">By</span> CONSTANCE FENIMORE WOOLSON.</p> - -<p class="c"><small>[REPRINTED FROM APPLETONS’ JOURNAL.]</small></p> - -<div class="sml"> -<p class="c"><i>From the Springfield Republican.</i></p> - -<p>“Miss Constance Fenimore Woolson’s poem, ‘Two Women,’ begun in the -January and finished in the February number of <span class="smcap">Appletons’ Journal</span>, is of -such remarkable quality as to deserve a wider reading than it is likely -to have. To read it in completeness gives one, beyond its faults—which -are principally those of imperfect versification and a certain formality -of phraseology—a sense of power in character-drawing (coloring enough, -too, for that matter), in dramatic situation and in expression of deep -emotions, which is rarely met with. The contrast between the magnificent -woman of the world and the Puritan country-girl is done in true masterly -way, and that the one should continue faithful to love through her life, -though still reigning in social royalty, while the other marries as -piously as she mourned, and puts away the dead youth’s memory -forever—is perfectly true to their natures. To present such marked -types in rivalry, and show the self-abnegation in the rich nature and -the innocent self-absorption of the narrow nature, was well worth while. -The poem would make quite a little book, and better merits such -treatment than most verses that receive it.”</p> - -<p class="c"><i>From the New York Evening Post.</i></p> - -<p>“In the poem ‘Two Women,’ the first half of which appeared in the -January number of <span class="smcap">Appletons’ Journal</span>, and the last half of which has -just now come to us in the February number of that magazine, there is -something, we think, which takes the piece out of the category of -ordinary magazine-work, and entitles it to special attention. The poem -is long enough, for one thing, to fill a little volume, if it were -printed as it is the custom to print books of poetry, and while it is -rugged, faulty, and in many respects defective, it is nevertheless -strong, dramatic, and full of the flavor of the soil. The two women who -gave it its name are types of two well-defined classes of American -women, but they are sharply drawn as individuals also, and their -characters are presented with a boldness and a degree of distinctness -which is possible only at the hands of a writer of very considerable -dramatic power.”</p> - -<p class="c"><i>From the Providence Journal.</i></p> - -<p>“A story in verse, which enchains the attention with fascinating power, -... produces an intensely emotional effect upon the reader, and at the -same time an involuntary tribute to the originality and noteworthy -ability of the writer.”</p> - -<p class="c"><i>From the Detroit Post.</i></p> - -<p>“One of the most powerful pieces of magazine-writing we have seen in a -long time.... Shows a far-reaching knowledge of human nature, a dramatic -grasp and force, and a power of description and expression seldom seen.”</p> -</div> - -<p class="c">One Volume. Cloth. 12mo.</p> - -<p class="c">D. APPLETON & CO., Publishers.</p> - -<hr class="full" /> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Two Women, 1862; a Poem, by -Constance Fenimore Woolson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK TWO WOMEN, 1862; A POEM *** - -***** This file should be named 54017-h.htm or 54017-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/0/1/54017/ - -Produced by Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images available at The Internet Archive) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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