 | The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder |  |
I
John Carman of Carmeltown
Worked hard through the livelong day;
He drove his awl and he snapt his thread
And he had but little to say.
Worked hard through the livelong day;
He drove his awl and he snapt his thread
And he had but little to say.
He had but little to say
Except to a neighbor's child;
Three summers old she was, and her eyes
Had a look that was deep and wild.
Except to a neighbor's child;
Three summers old she was, and her eyes
Had a look that was deep and wild.
Her hair was heavy and brown
Like clouds in a starry night.
She came and sat by the cobbler's bench
And his soul was filled with delight.
Like clouds in a starry night.
She came and sat by the cobbler's bench
And his soul was filled with delight.
No kith nor kin had he
And he never went gadding about;
A strange, shy man, the people said;
They could not make him out.
And he never went gadding about;
A strange, shy man, the people said;
They could not make him out.
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And some of them shook their heads
And would never tell what they'd heard.
But he drove his awl and snapt his thread—
And he always kept his word;
And would never tell what they'd heard.
But he drove his awl and snapt his thread—
And he always kept his word;
And the little child that knew him
Better than all the rest,
She threw her arms around his neck
And went to sleep on his breast.
Better than all the rest,
She threw her arms around his neck
And went to sleep on his breast.
One day in that dreadful summer
When children died by the score,
John Carman glanced from his work and saw
Her mother there at the door.
When children died by the score,
John Carman glanced from his work and saw
Her mother there at the door.
He knew by the look on her face—
And his own turned deathly white;
He rose from his bench and followed her out
And watched by the child that night.
And his own turned deathly white;
He rose from his bench and followed her out
And watched by the child that night.
He tended her day and night;
He watched by her night and day.
He saw the cruel pain in her eyes;
He saw her lips turn gray.
He watched by her night and day.
He saw the cruel pain in her eyes;
He saw her lips turn gray.
| The Poems of Richard Watson Gilder | |