Parson Wilbur he calls all these argimunts lies,
Sez they're nothin' on airth but jest fee, faw, fum;
An' thet all this big talk of our destinies
Is half on it ignorance, an' t'other half rum.
But John P.
Sez it ain't no sech thing; an', of course, so must we.
Parson Wilbur sez he never heerd in his life
Thet th' Apostles rigg'd out in their swaller-tail coats, An' march'd round in front.of a drum an' a fife,
To git some on 'em office, and some on 'em votes;
But John P.
Robinson he
Sez they didn't know everythin' down in Judee.
Wal, it's a marcy we've gut folks to tell us
The rights an' the wrongs o' these matters, I vow.
God sends country lawyers, an' other wise fellers,
To drive the world's team wen it gits in a slough;
Fer John P.
Robinson he
Sez the world'll go right, ef he hollers out Gee!
GOD makes sech nights, all white an' still
Fur'z you can look or listen,
Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill,
All silence an' all glisten.
Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown
An' peek'd in thru' the winder,
An' there sot Huldy all alone,
'Ith no one nigh to hender.
A fireplace fill'd the room's one side
With half a cord o' wood in-
There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died)
To bake ye to a puddin'.
The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out
Towards the pootiest, bless her!
An' leetle flames danced all about
The chiny on the dresser.
Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung,
An' in amongst 'em rusted
The ole queen's-arm thet gran'ther Young
Fetch'd back from Concord busted.
The very room, coz she was in,
Seem'd warm from floor to ceilin',
An' she look'd full ez rosy agin
Ez the apples she was peelin'.
'Twas kin' o' kingdom-come to look
On sech a blessed cretur,
A dogrose blushin' to a brook
Ain't modester nor sweeter.
He was six foot o' man, A 1,
Clean grit an' human natur';
None couldn't quicker pitch a ton
Nor dror a furrer straighter.
He'd spark'd it with full twenty gals,
He'd squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em,
Fust this one, an' then thet, by spells,—
All is, he couldn't love 'em.
But long o' her his veins 'ould run
All crinkly like curl'd maple,
The side she bresh'd felt full o' sun
Ez a south slope in Ap'il.
She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing
Ez hisn in the choir;
My! when he made Ole Hundred ring,
She know'd the Lord was nigher.
An' she'd blush scarlit, right in prayer,
When her new meetin'-bunnet
Felt somehow thru' its crown a pair
O' blue eyes sot upon it.
Thet night, I tell ye, she look'd some!
She seem'd to've gut a new soul,
For she felt sartin-sure he'd come,
Down to her very shoe-sole.
She heer'd a foot, an' know'd it tu,
A-raspin' on the scraper,-
All ways to once her feelin's flew
Like sparks in burnt-up paper.
He kin' o' l'iter'd on the mat,
Some doubtfle o' the sekle,
His heart kep' goin' pity-pat,
But hern went pity Zekle.
An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk
Ez though she wish'd him furder, An' on her apples kep' to work, Parin' away like murder.
"You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?"
no I come dasignin' "To see my Ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es Agin to-morrer's i'nin'."
To say why gals act so or so,
Or don't, 'ould be presumin';
Mebby to mean yes an' say no
Comes nateral to women.
He stood a spell on one fut fust,
Then stood a spell on t'other,
An' on which one he felt the wust
He couldn't ha' told ye nuther.
Says he "I'd better call agin;
Says she-"Think likely, Mister! That last word prick'd him like a pin, Wal, he up an' kist her.
When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips,
Huldy sot pale ez ashes,
All kin' o' smily roun' the lips
An' teary roun' the lashes.
For she was jes' the quiet kind
Whose naturs never vary,
Like streams that keep a summer mind
Snow-hid in Jenooary.
The blood clost roun' her heart felt glued
Too tight for all expressin',
Tell mother see how metters stood,
And gin 'em both her blessin'.
Then her red come back like the tide
Down to the Bay o' Fundy;
An' all I know is they was cried
In meetin' come nex' Sunday.
A STRANGER came one night to Yussouf's tent,
Saying "Behold one outcast and in dread,
Against whose life the bow of power is bent,
Who flies, and hath not where to lay his head;
I come to thee for shelter and for food,
To Yussouf, call'd through all our tribes The Good."
"This tent is mine "-said Yussouf-" but no more
Than it is God's; come in, and be at peace;
Freely shalt thou partake of all my store
As I of His who buildeth over these
Our tents His glorious roof of night and day,
And at whose door none ever yet heard Nay."
So Yussouf entertain'd his guest that night,
And, waking him ere day, said " Here is gold;
My swiftest horse is saddled for thy flight:
Depart before the prying day grow bold!"
As one lamp lights another, nor grows less,
So nobleness enkindleth nobleness.
That inward light the stranger's face made grand,
Which shines from all self-conquest; kneeling low,
He bow'd his forehead upon Yussouf's hand,
Sobbing "O Sheik, I cannot leave thee so;
I will repay thee; all this thou hast done
Unto that Ibrahim who slew thy son!"
"Take thrice the gold!" said Yussouf-" for with thee Into the desert, never to return,
My one black thought shall ride away from me.
First-born! for whom by day and night I yearn,-
Balanced and just are all of God's decrees.
Thou art avenged, my first-born! sleep in peace! "
SHE CAME AND WENT.
As a twig trembles which a bird
Lights on to sing, then leaves unbent,
So is my memory thrill'd and stirr'd:
I only know She came and went.
As clasps some lake, by gusts unriven,
The blue dome's measureless content,
So
my soul held that moment's heaven:
I only know She came and went.
As, at one bound, our swift spring heaps
The orchards full of bloom and scent,
So clove her May my wintry sleeps;
I only know She came and went.
An angel stood and met my gaze,
Through the low doorway of my tent;
The tent is struck, the vision stays;
I only know She came and went.
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