 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
THE SHOEMAKER'S DAUGHTER.
Yesternight, as I sat with an old friend of mine,
In his library, cosily over our wine,
Looking out on the guests in the parlor, I said,
Of a lady whose shoe showed some ripping of thread,
“Frank, she looks like a shoemaker's daughter.”
In his library, cosily over our wine,
Looking out on the guests in the parlor, I said,
Of a lady whose shoe showed some ripping of thread,
“Frank, she looks like a shoemaker's daughter.”
398
“Yes,” said Frank, “yes; her shoe has a rip at the side,
The mishap of the moment—the lady's a bride.
That reminds me of something; and here as we sit,
If you'll listen with patience, I'll spin you a bit
Of a yarn of a shoemaker's daughter.
The mishap of the moment—the lady's a bride.
That reminds me of something; and here as we sit,
If you'll listen with patience, I'll spin you a bit
Of a yarn of a shoemaker's daughter.
“When I was a boy, half a century since—
How one's frame, as one numbers the years, seems to wince!—
A dear little girl went to school with me then;
As I sit in my arm-chair I see her again—
Kitty Mallet, the shoemaker's daughter.
How one's frame, as one numbers the years, seems to wince!—
A dear little girl went to school with me then;
As I sit in my arm-chair I see her again—
Kitty Mallet, the shoemaker's daughter.
“Whence the wonderful ease in her manner she had,
Not from termagant mother nor hard-working dad.
Yet no doubt that, besides a most beautiful face,
The child had decorum, refinement, and grace,
Not at all like a shoemaker's daughter.
Not from termagant mother nor hard-working dad.
Yet no doubt that, besides a most beautiful face,
The child had decorum, refinement, and grace,
Not at all like a shoemaker's daughter.
“Her dress was of sixpenny print, but 'twas clean;
Her shoes, like all shoemakers' children's, were mean;
Her bonnet a wreck; but, whatever she wore,
The air of a damsel of breeding she bore—
Not that of a shoemaker's daughter.
Her shoes, like all shoemakers' children's, were mean;
Her bonnet a wreck; but, whatever she wore,
The air of a damsel of breeding she bore—
Not that of a shoemaker's daughter.
“The girls of the school, when she entered the place,
Pinched each other, then tittered and stared in her face.
She heeded no insult, no notice she took,
But quietly settled herself to her book;
She meant business, that shoemaker's daughter.
Pinched each other, then tittered and stared in her face.
She heeded no insult, no notice she took,
But quietly settled herself to her book;
She meant business, that shoemaker's daughter.
“Still jeered at by idler and dullhead and fool,
A hermitess she in the crowd of the school:
There was wonder, indeed, when it soon came to pass
That ‘Calico Kitty’ was head of the class.
‘What, Kitty, that shoemaker's daughter!’
A hermitess she in the crowd of the school:
There was wonder, indeed, when it soon came to pass
That ‘Calico Kitty’ was head of the class.
‘What, Kitty, that shoemaker's daughter!’
399
“Still wearing the same faded calico dress,
And calm, as before, in the pride of success;
Her manner the same, easy, soft, and refined,
'Twas she seemed an heiress, while each left behind
In the race was a shoemaker's daughter.
And calm, as before, in the pride of success;
Her manner the same, easy, soft, and refined,
'Twas she seemed an heiress, while each left behind
In the race was a shoemaker's daughter.
“Bit by bit all her schoolmates she won to her side,
To rejoice in her triumph, be proud in her pride,
And I with the rest. I felt elderly then,
For I was sixteen, while the lass was but ten;
So I petted the shoemaker's daughter.
To rejoice in her triumph, be proud in her pride,
And I with the rest. I felt elderly then,
For I was sixteen, while the lass was but ten;
So I petted the shoemaker's daughter.
“Do you see that old lady with calm, placid face?
Time touches her beauty, but leaves all her grace.
Do you notice the murmurs that hush when she stirs,
And the honor and homage so pointedly hers?
That's my wife, sir, the shoemaker's daughter!”
Time touches her beauty, but leaves all her grace.
Do you notice the murmurs that hush when she stirs,
And the honor and homage so pointedly hers?
That's my wife, sir, the shoemaker's daughter!”
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |