[Poems by Woolson in] Five generations (1785-1923) being scattered chapters from the history of the Cooper, Pomeroy, Woolson and Benedict families, with extracts From their Letters and Journals, as well as articles and poems by Constance Fenimore Woolson |
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PLUM'S PICTURE. |
 | [Poems by Woolson in] Five generations (1785-1923) |  |
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PLUM'S PICTURE.
Red-golden hair with flossy wave,
Two blue eyes filled with wonder grave,
Cheeks tinted with rose-bloom,
Sweet coral mouth pursed up in awe,
For many fairy things she saw
Up in the artist's room;
From out the simple little dress
Bare in their baby loveliness,
Two rounded shoulders come,—
Two dimpled hands, so soft and fair,
Holding the flowers with folded care,
And there you have our Plum.
Two blue eyes filled with wonder grave,
Cheeks tinted with rose-bloom,
Sweet coral mouth pursed up in awe,
For many fairy things she saw
Up in the artist's room;
From out the simple little dress
Bare in their baby loveliness,
Two rounded shoulders come,—
Two dimpled hands, so soft and fair,
Holding the flowers with folded care,
And there you have our Plum.
O, darling Plum, your three short years,
Have held a charm to dry the tears
Of many mourning hearts,—
When dark the life, and deep the grief,
No words, no help, bring the relief
That baby-love imparts;
And, looking in your sunbeam face,
Watching your ways, your winsome grace,
Your little pleasures glad,—
Hearing your questions, baby-wise,
Your rippling talk, your gay surprise,
Who, who, can long be sad?
Have held a charm to dry the tears
Of many mourning hearts,—
When dark the life, and deep the grief,
No words, no help, bring the relief
That baby-love imparts;
And, looking in your sunbeam face,
Watching your ways, your winsome grace,
Your little pleasures glad,—
Hearing your questions, baby-wise,
Your rippling talk, your gay surprise,
Who, who, can long be sad?
Dear little Plum, we love to trace
Your likeness to another face,
A something hov'ring o'er
Your baby features, which recalls
A portrait hanging on our walls,
And brings him back once more;
Back to our life, as, in your eyes
We see the father's likeness rise,
His bright expression come,—
And of all loves our hearts confer,
We love you best because you were
His darling little Plum.
Your likeness to another face,
A something hov'ring o'er
Your baby features, which recalls
A portrait hanging on our walls,
And brings him back once more;
Back to our life, as, in your eyes
We see the father's likeness rise,
His bright expression come,—
And of all loves our hearts confer,
We love you best because you were
His darling little Plum.
| [Poems by Woolson in] Five generations (1785-1923) | |