 | A lover's diary |  |
84
X.
INSPIRED.
Mildew was on the corn,—
The stubble was matted and gray,
And the hardy oak and the knotty thorn
Looked dead on the hills of clay;
The ponds were covered with spongy green,
And the slow rain fell all day.
The stubble was matted and gray,
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Looked dead on the hills of clay;
The ponds were covered with spongy green,
And the slow rain fell all day.
All under the hills of clay,
And the boughs so black and bare,
A shivering woman crouched away
In the silence of despair,
And idly picked the dead wet leaves
Out of her dripping hair.
And the boughs so black and bare,
A shivering woman crouched away
In the silence of despair,
And idly picked the dead wet leaves
Out of her dripping hair.
“O hills, wild hills,” she cries,
“Be friendly, and fall, I pray,
And bury my child and me from the eyes
Of the cold rebuking day:
Fall hills so wild o'er me and my child,
And bury us both away!”
“Be friendly, and fall, I pray,
And bury my child and me from the eyes
Of the cold rebuking day:
Fall hills so wild o'er me and my child,
And bury us both away!”
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And if she had wine and bread,
And a shelter from the storm,
And if she lay that night in a bed
With her baby in her arm,—
If she did not die, it was not I
That saved her out of harm.
And a shelter from the storm,
And if she lay that night in a bed
With her baby in her arm,—
If she did not die, it was not I
That saved her out of harm.
For though her locks I bound
From their drenched and dripping fall,
And though I built my strength around
Her weakness, like a wall,
It was the thought of Mona drowned
That made me do it all.
From their drenched and dripping fall,
And though I built my strength around
Her weakness, like a wall,
It was the thought of Mona drowned
That made me do it all.
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