 | [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary |  |
2
A MEMORIAL OF ALICE AND PHŒBE CARY
61
[I see the lights of the village]
“I see the lights of the villageGleam through the rain and mist,
And a feeling of sadness comes o'er me,
That my soul cannot resist;
A feeling of sadness and longing
That is not akin to pain,
And resembles sorrow only
As the mist resembles rain.”
[I see the lights of the baker]
“I see the lights of the bakerGleam through the rain and mist,
And a feeling of something comes o'er me,
That my steps cannot resist;
A feeling of something like longing,
And slightly akin to pain,
That resembles hunger more than
The mist resembles rain.”
KATE KETCHEM.
Kate Ketchem on a winter's night
Went to a party dressed in white.
Went to a party dressed in white.
Her chignon in a net of gold
Was about as large as they ever sold.
Was about as large as they ever sold.
Gayly she went, because her “pap”
Was supposed to be a rich old chap.
Was supposed to be a rich old chap.
But when by chance her glances fell
On a friend who had lately married well,
On a friend who had lately married well,
Her spirits sunk, and a vague unrest
And a nameless longing filled her breast—
And a nameless longing filled her breast—
A wish she would n't have had made known,
To have an establishment of her own.
To have an establishment of her own.
Tom Fudge came slowly through the throng,
With chestnut hair, worn pretty long.
With chestnut hair, worn pretty long.
He saw Kate Ketchem in the crowd,
And knowing her slightly, stopped and bowed;
And knowing her slightly, stopped and bowed;
Then asked her to give him a single flower,
Saying he 'd think it a priceless dower.
Saying he 'd think it a priceless dower.
Out from those with which she was decked,
She took the poorest she could select,
She took the poorest she could select,
And blushed as she gave it, looking down
To call attention to her gown.
To call attention to her gown.
“Thanks,” said Fudge, and he thought how dear
Flowers must be at that time of year.
Flowers must be at that time of year.
Then several charming remarks he made,
Asked if she sang, or danced, or played;
Asked if she sang, or danced, or played;
And being exhausted, inquired whether
She thought it was going to be pleasant weather.
She thought it was going to be pleasant weather.
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And Kate displayed her “jewelry,”
And dropped her lashes becomingly;
And dropped her lashes becomingly;
And listened, with no attempt to disguise
The admiration in her eyes.
The admiration in her eyes.
At last, like one who has nothing to say,
He turned around and walked away.
He turned around and walked away.
Kate Ketchem smiled, and said, “You bet
I'll catch that Fudge and his money yet.
I'll catch that Fudge and his money yet.
“He 's rich enough to keep me in clothes,
And I think I could manage him as I chose.
And I think I could manage him as I chose.
“He could aid my father as well as not,
And buy my brother a splendid yacht.
And buy my brother a splendid yacht.
“My mother for money should never fret,
And all it cried for, the baby should get.
And all it cried for, the baby should get.
“And after that, with what he could spare,
I 'd make a show at a charity fair.”
I 'd make a show at a charity fair.”
Tom Fudge looked back as he crossed the sill,
And saw Kate Ketchem standing still.
And saw Kate Ketchem standing still.
“A girl more suited to my mind
It is n't an easy thing to find;
It is n't an easy thing to find;
“And everything that she has to wear
Proves her rich as she is fair.
Proves her rich as she is fair.
“Would she were mine, and I to-day
Had the old man's cash my debts to pay!
Had the old man's cash my debts to pay!
“No creditors with a long account,
No tradesmen wanting ‘that little amount;’
No tradesmen wanting ‘that little amount;’
“But all my scores paid up when due
By a father-in-law as rich as a Jew!”
By a father-in-law as rich as a Jew!”
But he thought of her brother not worth a straw
And her mother, that would be his, in law;
And her mother, that would be his, in law;
So, undecided, he walked along,
And Kate was left alone in the throng.
And Kate was left alone in the throng.
But a lawyer smiled, whom he sought by stealth,
To ascertain old Ketchem's wealth;
To ascertain old Ketchem's wealth;
And as for Kate she schemed and planned
Till one of the dancers claimed her hand.
Till one of the dancers claimed her hand.
He married her for her father's cash;
She married him to cut a dash.
She married him to cut a dash.
But as to paying his debts, do you know,
The father could n't see it so;
The father could n't see it so;
And at hints for help, Kate's hazel eyes
Looked out in their innocent surprise.
Looked out in their innocent surprise.
And when Tom thought of the way he had wed,
He longed for a single life instead,
He longed for a single life instead,
And closed his eyes in a sulky mood,
Regretting the days of his bachelor-hood;
Regretting the days of his bachelor-hood;
And said, in a sort of reckless vein,
“I'd like to see her catch me again,
“I'd like to see her catch me again,
“If I were free, as on that night
When I saw Kate Ketchem dressed in white!”
When I saw Kate Ketchem dressed in white!”
She wedded him to be rich and gay;
But husband and children did n't pay.
But husband and children did n't pay.
He was n't the prize she hoped to draw,
And would n't live with his mother-in-law.
And would n't live with his mother-in-law.
And oft when she had to coax and pout,
In order to get him to take her out,
In order to get him to take her out,
She thought how very attentive and bright
He seemed at the party that winter's night;
He seemed at the party that winter's night;
63
Of his laugh, as soft as a breeze of the south
('T was now on the other side of his mouth);
('T was now on the other side of his mouth);
How he praised her dress and gems in his talk,
As he took a careful account of stock.
As he took a careful account of stock.
Sometimes she hated the very walls—
Hated her friends, her dinners, and calls;
Hated her friends, her dinners, and calls;
Till her weak affection, to hatred turned,
Like a dying tallow-candle burned.
Like a dying tallow-candle burned.
And for him who sat there, her peace to mar,
Smoking his everlasting cigar—
Smoking his everlasting cigar—
He was n't the man she thought she saw,
And grief was duty, and hate was law.
And grief was duty, and hate was law.
So she took up her burden with a groan,
Saying only, “I might have known!”
Saying only, “I might have known!”
Alas for Kate! and alas for Fudge!
Though I do not owe them any grudge;
Though I do not owe them any grudge;
And alas for any who find to their shame
That two can play at their little game!
That two can play at their little game!
For of all hard things to bear and grin,
The hardest is knowing you're taken in.
The hardest is knowing you're taken in.
Ah, well, as a general thing, we fret
About the one we did n't get;
About the one we did n't get;
But I think we need n't make a fuss,
If the one we don't want did n't get us.
If the one we don't want did n't get us.
[And hark! there is something strange about]
“‘And hark! there is something strange about,
For my dull old blood is stirred;
That was n't the feet of the storm without,
Nor the voice of the storm I heard!
For my dull old blood is stirred;
That was n't the feet of the storm without,
Nor the voice of the storm I heard!
[OMITTED]
“‘'Tis my boy! he is coming home, he is near,
Or I could not hear him pass;
For his step is as light as the step of the deer
On the velvet prairie grass.”
Or I could not hear him pass;
For his step is as light as the step of the deer
On the velvet prairie grass.”
[OMITTED]
“She rose—she stood erect, serene;
She swiftly crossed the floor,
And the hand of the wind, or a hand unseen,
Threw open wide the door.
She swiftly crossed the floor,
64
Threw open wide the door.
“Through the portal rushed the cruel blast,
With a wail on its awful swell;
As she cried, ‘My boy, you have come at last,’
And prone o'er the threshold fell.
With a wail on its awful swell;
As she cried, ‘My boy, you have come at last,’
And prone o'er the threshold fell.
“And the stranger heard no other sound,
And saw no form appear;
But whoever came at midnight found
Her lamp was burning clear!”
And saw no form appear;
But whoever came at midnight found
Her lamp was burning clear!”
[And yet it almost makes me weep]
“And yet it almost makes me weep,
Aye! weep, and cry, alas!
When I think of one who lies asleep
Down under the quiet grass.
For he loved me well, and I loved again,
And low in homage bent,
And prayed for his long and prosperous reign,
In our realm of sweet content.
But not to the dead may the living cling,
Nor kneel at an empty shrine;
The King is dead, long live the King!
Said the Lady Jaqueline.
Aye! weep, and cry, alas!
When I think of one who lies asleep
Down under the quiet grass.
For he loved me well, and I loved again,
And low in homage bent,
And prayed for his long and prosperous reign,
In our realm of sweet content.
But not to the dead may the living cling,
Nor kneel at an empty shrine;
The King is dead, long live the King!
Said the Lady Jaqueline.
[OMITTED]
“Yea, all my lovers and kings that were
Are dead, and hid away
In the past, as in a sepulchre,
Shut up till the judgment day.
False or fickle, or weak or wed,
They are all alike to me:
And mine eyes no more can be misled,
They have looked on royalty!
Then bring me wine, and garlands bring
For my king of the right divine;
The King is dead, long live the King!
Said the Lady Jaqueline.”
Are dead, and hid away
In the past, as in a sepulchre,
Shut up till the judgment day.
False or fickle, or weak or wed,
They are all alike to me:
And mine eyes no more can be misled,
They have looked on royalty!
Then bring me wine, and garlands bring
For my king of the right divine;
The King is dead, long live the King!
Said the Lady Jaqueline.”
65
[The veil of flesh that hid]
“The veil of flesh that hid
Is softly drawn aside;
More clearly I behold them now,
Than those who never died.”
Is softly drawn aside;
More clearly I behold them now,
Than those who never died.”
BORDER-LAND.
I know you are always by my side,
And I know you love me, Winifred, dear;
For I never called on you since you died,
But you answered tenderly, I am here!
And I know you love me, Winifred, dear;
For I never called on you since you died,
But you answered tenderly, I am here!
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So come from the misty shadows, where
You came last night and the night before;
Put back the veil of your golden hair,
And let me look in your face once more.
You came last night and the night before;
Put back the veil of your golden hair,
And let me look in your face once more.
Ah! it is you; with that brow of truth,
Ever too pure for the least disguise;
With the same dear smile on the loving mouth,
And the same sweet light in the tender eyes.
Ever too pure for the least disguise;
With the same dear smile on the loving mouth,
And the same sweet light in the tender eyes.
You are my own, my darling still;
So do not vanish or turn aside;
Wait till my eyes have had their fill,
Wait till my heart is pacified!
So do not vanish or turn aside;
Wait till my eyes have had their fill,
Wait till my heart is pacified!
You have left the light of your higher place;
And ever thoughtful, and kind, and good,
You come with your old familiar face,
And not with the look of your angelhood.
And ever thoughtful, and kind, and good,
You come with your old familiar face,
And not with the look of your angelhood.
Still the touch of your hand is soft and light,
And your voice is gentle, and kind, and low;
And the very roses you wear to-night
You wore in the summers long ago.
And your voice is gentle, and kind, and low;
And the very roses you wear to-night
You wore in the summers long ago.
O World! you may tell me I dream or rave,
So long as my darling comes to prove
That the feet of the spirit cross the grave.
And the loving live, and the living love!
So long as my darling comes to prove
That the feet of the spirit cross the grave.
And the loving live, and the living love!
FIELD PREACHING.
I have been out to-day in field and wood,
Listening to praises sweet, and counsel good,
Such as a little child had understood,
That, in its tender youth,
Discerns the simple eloquence of truth.
Listening to praises sweet, and counsel good,
Such as a little child had understood,
That, in its tender youth,
Discerns the simple eloquence of truth.
The modest blossoms, crowding round my way,
Though they had nothing great or grand to say,
Gave out their fragrance to the wind all day;
Because his loving breath,
With soft persistence, won them back from death.
Though they had nothing great or grand to say,
Gave out their fragrance to the wind all day;
Because his loving breath,
With soft persistence, won them back from death.
[OMITTED]
The stately maize, a fair and goodly sight,
With serried spear-points bristling sharp and bright,
Shook out his yellow tresses, for delight,
To all their tawny length,
Like Samson, glorifying in his lusty strength.
With serried spear-points bristling sharp and bright,
Shook out his yellow tresses, for delight,
To all their tawny length,
Like Samson, glorifying in his lusty strength.
And every little bird upon the tree,
Ruffling his plumage bright, for ecstasy,
Sang in the wild insanity of glee;
And seemed, in the same lays,
Calling his mate, and uttering songs of praise.
Ruffling his plumage bright, for ecstasy,
Sang in the wild insanity of glee;
And seemed, in the same lays,
Calling his mate, and uttering songs of praise.
The golden grasshopper did chirp and sing;
The plain bee, busy with her house-keeping,
Kept humming cheerfully upon the wing,
As if she understood
That, with contentment, labor was a good.
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Kept humming cheerfully upon the wing,
As if she understood
That, with contentment, labor was a good.
I saw each creature, in his own best place,
To the Creator lift a smiling face,
Praising continually his wondrous grace;
As if the best of all
Life's countless blessings was to live at all!
To the Creator lift a smiling face,
Praising continually his wondrous grace;
As if the best of all
Life's countless blessings was to live at all!
So, with a book of sermons, plain and true,
Hid in my heart, where I might turn them through,
I went home softly, through the falling dew,
Still listening, rapt and calm,
To Nature giving out her evening psalm.
Hid in my heart, where I might turn them through,
I went home softly, through the falling dew,
Still listening, rapt and calm,
To Nature giving out her evening psalm.
While, far along the west, mine eyes discerned.
Where, lit by God, the fires of sunset burned,
The tree-tops, unconsumed, to flame were turned:
And I, in that great hush,
Talked with his angels in each burning bush!
Where, lit by God, the fires of sunset burned,
The tree-tops, unconsumed, to flame were turned:
And I, in that great hush,
Talked with his angels in each burning bush!
NEARER HOME.
One sweetly solemn thought
Comes to me o'er and o'er;
I am nearer home to-day
Than I ever have been before;
Comes to me o'er and o'er;
I am nearer home to-day
Than I ever have been before;
Nearer my Father's house,
Where the many mansions be;
Nearer the great white throne,
Nearer the crystal sea;
Where the many mansions be;
Nearer the great white throne,
Nearer the crystal sea;
Nearer the bound of life,
Where we lay our burdens down;
Nearer leaving the cross,
Nearer gaining the crown.
Where we lay our burdens down;
Nearer leaving the cross,
Nearer gaining the crown.
But lying darkly between,
Winding down through the night,
Is the silent, unknown stream,
That leads at last to the light.
Winding down through the night,
Is the silent, unknown stream,
That leads at last to the light.
Closer and closer my steps
Come to the dread abysm:
Closer Death to my lips
Presses the awful chrism.
Come to the dread abysm:
Closer Death to my lips
Presses the awful chrism.
Oh, if my mortal feet
Have almost gained the brink;
If it be I am nearer home
Even to-day than I think;
Have almost gained the brink;
If it be I am nearer home
Even to-day than I think;
Father, perfect my trust;
Let my spirit feel in death
That her feet are firmly set
On the rock of a living faith!
Let my spirit feel in death
That her feet are firmly set
On the rock of a living faith!
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[O mine eyes, be not so tearful]
“O mine eyes, be not so tearful;
Drooping spirit, rise, be cheerful;
Heavy soul, why art thou fearful?
Drooping spirit, rise, be cheerful;
Heavy soul, why art thou fearful?
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“Nature's sepulchre is breaking,
And the earth, her gloom forsaking,
Into life and light is waking.
And the earth, her gloom forsaking,
Into life and light is waking.
[OMITTED]
“Oh, the weakness and the madness
Of a heart that holdeth sadness
When all else is light and gladness!
Of a heart that holdeth sadness
When all else is light and gladness!
“Though thy treasure death hath taken,
They that sleep are not forsaken,
They shall hear the trump, and waken.
They that sleep are not forsaken,
They shall hear the trump, and waken.
“Shall not He who life supplieth
To the dead seed, where it lieth,
Quicken also man, who dieth?
To the dead seed, where it lieth,
Quicken also man, who dieth?
“Yea, the power of death was ended
When He, who to hell descended,
Rose, and up to heaven ascended.
When He, who to hell descended,
Rose, and up to heaven ascended.
“Rise, my soul, then, from dejection,
See in nature the reflection
Of the dear Lord's resurrection.
See in nature the reflection
Of the dear Lord's resurrection.
“Let this promise leave thee never:
If the might of death I sever,
Ye shall also live forever!”
If the might of death I sever,
Ye shall also live forever!”
[If still they kept their earthly place]
“If still they kept their earthly place,The friends I held in my embrace,
And gave to death, alas!
Could I have learned that clear calm faith
That looks beyond the bounds of death,
And almost longs to pass?”
72
MORAL LESSONS.
BY AMOS KEATER.
How doth the little busy flea
Improve each awful jump;
And mark her progress as she goes,
By many an itching lump!
Improve each awful jump;
And mark her progress as she goes,
By many an itching lump!
How skillfully she does her “sell;”
How neat she bites our backs,
And labors hard to keep her well
Beyond the reach of whacks!
How neat she bites our backs,
And labors hard to keep her well
Beyond the reach of whacks!
I, too, in games of chance and skill,
By Satan would be led;
For if you 're always sitting still,
You cannot get ahead.
By Satan would be led;
For if you 're always sitting still,
You cannot get ahead.
To lively back-biting and sich,
My great ambition tends;
Thus would I make me fat and rich
By living off my friends.
My great ambition tends;
Thus would I make me fat and rich
By living off my friends.
[Go on, my friend, speak freely, pray]
Go on, my friend, speak freely, pray;
Don't stop till you have said your say;
But, after you are tired to death,
And pause to take a little breath,
I'll name a dish I think is one
To which no justice can be done!
Don't stop till you have said your say;
But, after you are tired to death,
And pause to take a little breath,
I'll name a dish I think is one
To which no justice can be done!
It is n't pastry, old and rich,
Nor onions, garlic, chives, and sich;
Not cheese that moves with lively pace,
It is n't even Sweitzer Kase:
It is n't ham, that 's old and strong,
Nor sausage kept a month too long;
It is n't beefsteak, fried in lard,
Nor boiled potatoes when they 're hard
(All food unfit for Goth or Celt);
It is n't fit even when they 're smelt;
It ain't what Chinamen call nice,
Although they dote on rats and mice;
For, speaking honestly and truly,
I would n't give it to a Coolie!
I would n't vally even a pup,
If he could stoop to eat it up;
Nor give my enemy a bit,
Although he sot and cried for it.
Recall all pizen food and slop
At stations where the rail-cars stop;
It 's more than each and all of these,
By just about sixteen degrees.
It has no nutriment, it 's trash!
It 's meaner than the meanest hash,
And sourer twenty thousand times,
Than lemons, vinegar, and limes:
It 's what I hate the man who eats;
It 's poor, cold, cussed, pickled beets!”
Nor onions, garlic, chives, and sich;
Not cheese that moves with lively pace,
It is n't even Sweitzer Kase:
It is n't ham, that 's old and strong,
Nor sausage kept a month too long;
It is n't beefsteak, fried in lard,
Nor boiled potatoes when they 're hard
(All food unfit for Goth or Celt);
It is n't fit even when they 're smelt;
It ain't what Chinamen call nice,
Although they dote on rats and mice;
For, speaking honestly and truly,
I would n't give it to a Coolie!
I would n't vally even a pup,
If he could stoop to eat it up;
Nor give my enemy a bit,
Although he sot and cried for it.
Recall all pizen food and slop
At stations where the rail-cars stop;
It 's more than each and all of these,
By just about sixteen degrees.
It has no nutriment, it 's trash!
It 's meaner than the meanest hash,
And sourer twenty thousand times,
Than lemons, vinegar, and limes:
It 's what I hate the man who eats;
It 's poor, cold, cussed, pickled beets!”
74
ADVICE GRATIS TO CERTAIN WOMEN.
BY A WOMAN.
Oh, my strong-minded sisters, aspiring to vote,
And to row with your brothers, all in the same boat,
When you come out to speak to the public your mind,
Leave your tricks, and your airs, and your graces behind!
And to row with your brothers, all in the same boat,
When you come out to speak to the public your mind,
Leave your tricks, and your airs, and your graces behind!
For instance, when you by the world would be seen
As reporter, or editor (first-class, I mean),
I think—just to come to the point in one line—
What you write will be finer, if 't is not too fine.
As reporter, or editor (first-class, I mean),
I think—just to come to the point in one line—
What you write will be finer, if 't is not too fine.
Pray, don't let the thread of your subject be strung
With “golden,” and “shimmer,” “sweet,” “filter,” and “flung;”
Nor compel, by your style, all your readers to guess
You 've been looking up words Webster marks obs.
With “golden,” and “shimmer,” “sweet,” “filter,” and “flung;”
Nor compel, by your style, all your readers to guess
You 've been looking up words Webster marks obs.
And another thing: whatever else you may say,
Do keep personalities out of the way;
Don't try every sentence to make people see
What a dear, charming creature the writer must be!
Do keep personalities out of the way;
Don't try every sentence to make people see
What a dear, charming creature the writer must be!
Leave out affectations and pretty appeals;
Don't “drag yourself in by the neck and the heels,”
Your dear little boots, and your gloves; and take heed,
Nor pull your curls over men's eyes while they read.
Don't “drag yourself in by the neck and the heels,”
Your dear little boots, and your gloves; and take heed,
Nor pull your curls over men's eyes while they read.
Don't mistake me; I mean that the public 's not home,
You must do as the Romans do, when you 're in Rome;
I would have you be womanly, while you are wise;
'T is the weak and the womanish tricks I despise.
You must do as the Romans do, when you 're in Rome;
I would have you be womanly, while you are wise;
'T is the weak and the womanish tricks I despise.
On the other hand: don't write and dress in such styles
As astonish the natives, and frighten the isles;
Do look, on the platform, so folks in the show
Need n't ask, “Which are lions, and which tigers?” you know!
As astonish the natives, and frighten the isles;
Do look, on the platform, so folks in the show
Need n't ask, “Which are lions, and which tigers?” you know!
“'T is a good thing to write, and to rule in the state.
But to be a true, womanly woman is great:
And if ever you come to be that, 't will be when
You can cease to be babies, nor try to be men!
But to be a true, womanly woman is great:
And if ever you come to be that, 't will be when
You can cease to be babies, nor try to be men!
75
WAS HE HENPECKED?
“I'll tell you what it is, my dear,”
Said Mrs. Dorking, proudly,
“I do not like that chanticleer
Who crows o'er us so loudly.
Said Mrs. Dorking, proudly,
“I do not like that chanticleer
Who crows o'er us so loudly.
“And since I must his laws obey,
And have him walk before me,
I 'd rather like to have my say
Of who should lord it o'er me.”
And have him walk before me,
I 'd rather like to have my say
Of who should lord it o'er me.”
“You'd like to vote?” he answered slow,
“Why, treasure of my treasures,
What can you, or what should you know
Of public men, or measures?
“Why, treasure of my treasures,
What can you, or what should you know
Of public men, or measures?
“Of course, you have ability,
Of nothing am I surer;
You 're quite as wise, perhaps, as I;
You 're better, too, and purer.
Of nothing am I surer;
You 're quite as wise, perhaps, as I;
You 're better, too, and purer.
“I 'd have you just for mine alone;
Nay, so do I adore you,
I 'd put you queen upon a throne,
And bow myself before you.”
Nay, so do I adore you,
I 'd put you queen upon a throne,
And bow myself before you.”
“You 'd put me! you? now that is what
I do not want, precisely;
I want myself to choose the spot
That I can fill most wisely.”
I do not want, precisely;
I want myself to choose the spot
That I can fill most wisely.”
“My dear, you 're talking like a goose—
Unhenly, and improper”—
But here again her words broke loose,
In vain he tried to stop her:
Unhenly, and improper”—
But here again her words broke loose,
In vain he tried to stop her:
“I tell you, though she never spoke
So you could understand her,
A goose knows when she wears a yoke,
As quickly as a gander.”
So you could understand her,
A goose knows when she wears a yoke,
As quickly as a gander.”
“Why, bless my soul! what would you do?
Write out a diagnosis?
Speak equal rights? join with their crew
And dine with the Sorosis?
Write out a diagnosis?
Speak equal rights? join with their crew
And dine with the Sorosis?
“And shall I live to see it, then—
My wife a public teacher?
And would you be a crowing hen—
That dreadful unsexed creature?”
My wife a public teacher?
And would you be a crowing hen—
That dreadful unsexed creature?”
“Why, as to that, I do not know;
Nor see why you should fear it;
If I can crow, why let me crow,
If I can't, then you won't hear it!”
Nor see why you should fear it;
If I can crow, why let me crow,
If I can't, then you won't hear it!”
“Now, why,” he said, “can't such as you
Accept what we assign them?
You have your rights, 'tis very true,
But then, we should define them!
Accept what we assign them?
You have your rights, 'tis very true,
But then, we should define them!
“We would not peck you cruelly,
We would not buy and sell you;
And you, in turn, should think, and be,
And do, just what we tell you!
We would not buy and sell you;
And you, in turn, should think, and be,
And do, just what we tell you!
“I do not want you made, my dear,
The subject of rude men's jest;
I like you in your proper sphere,
The circle of a hen's nest!
The subject of rude men's jest;
I like you in your proper sphere,
The circle of a hen's nest!
“I 'd keep you in the chicken-yard,
Safe, honored, and respected;
From all that makes us rough and hard,
Your sex should be protected.”
Safe, honored, and respected;
From all that makes us rough and hard,
Your sex should be protected.”
“Pray, did it ever make you sick?
Have I gone to the dickens?
Because you let me scratch and pick
Both for myself and chickens?”
Have I gone to the dickens?
Because you let me scratch and pick
Both for myself and chickens?”
“Oh, that 's a different thing, you know,
Such duties are parental;
But for some work to do, you 'd grow
Quite weak and sentimental.”
Such duties are parental;
76
Quite weak and sentimental.”
“Ah! yes, it 's well for you to talk
About a parent's duty!
Who keeps your chickens from the hawk?
Who stays in nights, my beauty?”
About a parent's duty!
Who keeps your chickens from the hawk?
Who stays in nights, my beauty?”
“But, madam, you may go each hour,
Lord bless your pretty faces!
We'll give you anything, but power
And honor, trust and places.
Lord bless your pretty faces!
We'll give you anything, but power
And honor, trust and places.
“We 'd keep it hidden from your sight
How public scenes are carried;
Why, men are coarse, and swear, and fight”—
“I know it, dear; I'm married!”
How public scenes are carried;
Why, men are coarse, and swear, and fight”—
“I know it, dear; I'm married!”
“Why, now you gabble like a fool;
But what 's the use of talking?
'T is yours to serve. and mine to rule,
I tell you, Mrs. Dorking!”
But what 's the use of talking?
'T is yours to serve. and mine to rule,
I tell you, Mrs. Dorking!”
“Oh, yes,” she said, “you 've all the sense;
Your sex are very knowing;
Yet some of you are on the fence,
And only good at crowing.”
Your sex are very knowing;
Yet some of you are on the fence,
And only good at crowing.”
“Ah! preciousest of precious souls,
Your words with sorrow fill me;
To see you voting at the polls
I really think would kill me.
Your words with sorrow fill me;
To see you voting at the polls
I really think would kill me.
“To mourn my home's lost sanctity;
To feel you did not love me;
And worse, to see you fly so high,
And have you roost above me!”
To feel you did not love me;
And worse, to see you fly so high,
And have you roost above me!”
“Now, what you fear in equal rights
I think you 've told precisely;
That 's just about the ‘place it lights,’”
Said Mrs. Dorking wisely.
I think you 've told precisely;
That 's just about the ‘place it lights,’”
Said Mrs. Dorking wisely.
90
[Let your warm hands chill not, slipping]
“Let your warm hands chill not, slippingFrom my fingers' icy tips;
Be there not the touch of kisses
On my uncaressing lips;
Let no kindness see the blindness
Of my eyes' last, long eclipse.
Never think of me as lying
By the dismal mould o'erspread:
But about the soft white pillow
Folded underneath my head,
And of summer flowers weaving
Their rich broidery o'er my bed.
Think of the immortal spirit
Living up above the sky,
And of how my face is wearing
Light of immortality;
Looking earthward, is o'erleaning
The white bastion of the sky.”
| [Poems by Cary in] The Poetical Works Of Alice and Phoebe Cary | |