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134

POLLY, A GOVERNESS

The mice are away, and the cat will play;
The children are out for the livelong day,
So Polly will have it all her own way.
Polly is barely turned nineteen;
She hasn't at all a cat-like mien;
The sweetest smile that ever was seen
Plays on her lips, that are dainty red;
And brown is the hair of her bonny head,
And light is the little lady's tread,
And low is the little teacher's speech;
So gladly she'll learn, so gladly teach,
It is good to be within her reach.
135

There's plenty of fun at her command;
She doesn't look proud at all nor grand;
But you rarely find a firmer hand.
The children, that others used to say
Could not, or would not, learn to obey,
Do Polly's bidding day by day.
Small wonder it is how this should be,
For strong as gentle, indeed, is she,
And they know she loves them heartily.
Their little griefs and little joys
She knows, and she mends their broken toys,
And she likes to hear their merry noise.
Full many a dear delicious thing
She tells them of birds upon the wing,
And the brooding-time when sweet they sing.
She knows the haunts of wild flowers rare;
She has climbed full many a sea-rock where
Was a chance to find wild maidenhair.
136

They say she's ‘a brick,’ and it ne'er disturbs
That faith when little Polly curbs
Their glee with ‘horrid irregular verbs.’
(Does Polly feel, or does she know,
How from man's heart, in the long ago,
Words came for his need in their heat and glow?)
Oh, life, to her, is full of delight,
A rapture and wonder of dark and bright,
Of things past worth for the ear and sight.
To-day they have left her all alone;
The children are gone to London town;
They'll not come back till the sun goes down.
‘Good-bye, little cat!’ did the children say,
When they kissed her that morn and went away;
‘When the mice are away the cat will play.’
What will the little pussy do?
'Tis something very strange and new
To be all alone, for a long time too.
137

Perhaps she will turn out drawers to see
Where pretty stuffs and ribbons be,
And look them through, Miss Vanity,
And ply her needle and thread a space,
Till a brand-new hat is ready to grace
Her pretty head and her sunny face.
Or will she think it shame to press
This day's delicious loneliness
Into the service even of dress?
Perhaps she will write a home-letter
To the ones who love to hear from her,
And say she could not be happier,
Unless the good time were to come
When, once again a child at home,
No more from them she would ever roam:
Or gather the ready-ripened seed,
Or tend to the pigeons' hunger or greed,
Then take her book for a lovely read,
138

And under the ash where long boughs all
Droop green and fair, in a shady hall,
Miss Polly will have a delicious sprawl.
She scarce will think and she scarce will muse,
But lie as thinkers and dreamers use,
Until the time of the evening dews.
But the carriage-wheels will be heard at last,
And the little cat's play be over and past,
For the day will have slidden by so fast.
Oh, in the happiest life 'tis well
To be all alone for a little spell,
As many and many a one can tell:
And Polly will work the better, we say,
To-morrow, because of this to-day,
When the mice were away and the cat could play.
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