 | Mabel Martin: A Harvest Idyl |  |
I. THE RIVER VALLEY
Across the level tableland,
A grassy, rarely trodden way,
With thinnest skirt of birchen spray
A grassy, rarely trodden way,
With thinnest skirt of birchen spray
And stunted growth of cedar, leads
To where you see the dull plain fall
Sheer off, steep-slanted, ploughed by all
To where you see the dull plain fall
Sheer off, steep-slanted, ploughed by all
The seasons' rainfalls. On its brink
The over-leaning harebells swing,
With roots half bare the pine-trees cling ;
The over-leaning harebells swing,
With roots half bare the pine-trees cling ;
[Description: Sunrises over a tree clinging to a cliffside. Text is incorporated in the picture.]
And, through the shadow looking west,
You see the wavering river flow
Along a vale, that far below
You see the wavering river flow
Along a vale, that far below
Holds to the sun, the sheltering hills
And glimmering water-line between,
Broad fields of corn and meadows green,
And glimmering water-line between,
Broad fields of corn and meadows green,
And fruit-bent orchards grouped around
The low brown roofs and painted eaves,
And chimney-tops half hid in leaves.
The low brown roofs and painted eaves,
And chimney-tops half hid in leaves.
No warmer valley hides behind
Yon wind-scourged sand-dunes, cold and bleak ;
No fairer river comes to seek
Yon wind-scourged sand-dunes, cold and bleak ;
No fairer river comes to seek
The wave-sung welcome of the sea,
Or mark the northmost border line
Of sun-loved growths of nut and vine.
Or mark the northmost border line
Of sun-loved growths of nut and vine.
Here, ground-fast in their native fields,
Untempted by the city's gain,
The quiet farmer folk remain
Untempted by the city's gain,
The quiet farmer folk remain
Who bear the pleasant name of Friends,
And keep their fathers' gentle ways
And simple speech of Bible days ;
And keep their fathers' gentle ways
And simple speech of Bible days ;
In whose neat homesteads woman holds
With modest ease her equal place,
And wears upon her tranquil face
With modest ease her equal place,
And wears upon her tranquil face
The look of one who, merging not
Her self-hood in another's will,
Is love's and duty's handmaid still.
Her self-hood in another's will,
Is love's and duty's handmaid still.
Pass with me down the path that winds
Through birches to the open land,
Where, close upon the river strand
Through birches to the open land,
Where, close upon the river strand
[Description: Man standing on wooded hillside overlooking ruined cottage.]
You mark a cellar, vine o'errun,
Above whose wall of loosened stones
The sumach lifts its reddening cones,
Above whose wall of loosened stones
The sumach lifts its reddening cones,
[Description: Close up of the ruined cottage.]
And the black nightshade's berries shine,
And broad, unsightly burdocks fold
The houshold ruin, century-old.
And broad, unsightly burdocks fold
The houshold ruin, century-old.
Here, in the dim colonial time
Of sterner lives and gloomier faith,
A woman lived, tradition saith,
Of sterner lives and gloomier faith,
A woman lived, tradition saith,
Who wrought her neighbors foul annoy,
And witched and plagued the county side,
Till at the hangman's hand she died.
And witched and plagued the county side,
Till at the hangman's hand she died.
Sit with me while the westering day
Falls slantwise down the quiet vale,
And, haply ere yon loitering sail,
Falls slantwise down the quiet vale,
And, haply ere yon loitering sail,
That rounds the upper headland, falls
Below Deer Island's pines, or sees
Behind it Hawkswood's belt of trees
Below Deer Island's pines, or sees
Behind it Hawkswood's belt of trees
Rise black against the sinking sun,
My idyl of its days of old,
The valley's legend, shall be told.
My idyl of its days of old,
The valley's legend, shall be told.
[Description: An Island in the middle of a lake. A sailboat sits to the left.]
| Mabel Martin: A Harvest Idyl | |