The Mistress of the Manse Part 1

The Mistress of the Manse.

by J. G. Holland.

LOVE'S EXPERIMENTS.

I.

A fluttering bevy left the gate With hurried steps, and sped away; And then a coach with drooping freight, Wrapped in its film of dusty gray, Stopped; and the pastor and his mate

Stepped forth, and pa.s.sed the waiting door, And closed it on the gazing street.

"Oh Philip!" She could say no more.

"Oh Mildred! You're at home, my sweet,-- The old life closed: the new before!"

"Dinah, the mistress!" And the maid, Grown motherly with household care And loving service, and arrayed In homely neatness, took the pair Of small gloved hands held out, and paid

Her low obeisance; then--"this way!"

And when she brought her forth at last, To him who grudged the long delay, He found the soil of travel cast, And Mildred fresh and fair as May.

II

"This is our little Manse," he said.

"Now look with both your curious eyes Around, above and overhead, And seeing all things, realize That they are ours, and we are wed!

"Walk through these freshly garnished rooms-- These halls of oak and tinted pearl-- And mark the cups of clover-blooms, Cut fresh, to greet the stranger-girl, By those whose kindliness illumes

The house beyond the grace of flowers!

They greet you, mantled by my name, And rain their tenderness in showers,-- Responding to the double claim Of love no longer mine, but ours.

"This is our parlor, plain and sweet: Your hands shall make it half divine.

That wide, old-fas.h.i.+oned window-seat Beneath your touch shall grow a shrine; And every nooklet and retreat,

And every barren ledge and shelf, Shall wear a charm beyond the boon Of treasure-bearing drift, or delf, Or dreams that flutter from the moon; For it shall blossom with yourself.

"This is my study: here, alone, Prayerful to Him whom I adore, And gathering speech to make him known, Your far, quick footsteps on the floor, Your breezy robe, your cheerful tone,

As through our pretty home you speed The busy ministries of life, Will stir me swifter than my creed, And be more musical, dear wife, Than sweep of harp, or pipe of reed.

"Here is our fairy banquet hall!

See how it opens to the East, And looks through elms! The board is small, But what it bears shall be a feast At morn, and noon, and evenfall.

"There will you sit in girlish grace, And catch, the sunrise in your hair; And looking at you, from my place, I shall behold more sweet and fair The morning in your smiling face.

"And guests shall come, and guests shall go, And break with us our daily bread; And sometime--sometime--do you know?

I hope that--dearest, lift your head; And let me speak it, soft and low!

"The gra.s.s is sweeter than the ground: Can love be better than its flowers?

Oh sometime--sometime--in the round Of coming years, this board of ours I hope may blossom and abound

With s.h.i.+ning curls, and laughing eyes, And pleasant jests and merry words, And questions full of life's surprise, And light and music, when the birds Have left us to our gloomy skies.

"Now mount with me the old oak stair!

This is your chamber--pink and blue!

They asked the color of your hair, And draped and fitted all for you, My fine brunette, with tasteful care.

"The linen is as white as snow; The flowers are set on every sconce; And e'en the cus.h.i.+oned pin-heads show Your formal "welcome," for the nonce, To the sweet home their hands bestow.

"Declining to the river's marge, See, from this window, how the turf Runs with a thousand flowers in charge To meet the silver feet of surf That fly from every pa.s.sing barge!

"Along that reach of liquid light Flies Commerce with her countless keels; There the chained t.i.tan in his might Turns slowly round the groaning wheels That drag her burdens, day and night.

"And now the red sun flings his kiss Across its waves from finger-tips That pause, and grudgingly dismiss The one he loves to closer lips, And Moonlight's quiet hour of bliss.

"And here comes Dinah with the steam Of evening cups and evening food, And coal-red berries quenched with cream, And ministry of homely good That proves, my dear, we do not dream."

III.

He heard the long-drawn organ-peal Within his chapel call to prayer; And, answering with ready zeal, He breathed o'er Mildred's weary chair These words, and sealed them with a seal:

"Only an hour: but comfort take;-- This home and I are wholly yours; And many bosoms fondly ache To tell you, that while life endures, You shall be cherished for my sake.

"So throw your heart's door open wide, And take in mine as well as me; Let no poor creature be denied The grace of tender courtesy And kindness from the pastor's bride."

IV.

The moon came up the summer sky: "Oh happy moon!" the lady said; "Men love thee for thyself, but I Am loved because my life is wed To one whose message, pure and high,

Has spread the world's evangel far, And thrown such radiance through the dark That men behold him as a star, And in his gracious coming mark How beautiful his footsteps are.

"Oh Moon! dost thou take all thy light From the great sun so lately gone?

Are there not shapes upon thy white, That mould and make his sheen thy own, And charms that soften to the sight

The ardor of his blinding blaze?

Who loves thee that thou art the sun's?

Who does not give thee sweetest praise Among the troop of s.h.i.+ning ones That sweep along the heavenly ways?

"Yet still within the holy place The altar sanctifies the gift!

Poor, precious gift, that begs for grace!

Oh towering altar! that doth lift The gift so high, that, in its face,

It bears no beauty to the thought Of those who round the altar stand!

Poor, precious gift, that goes for naught From willing heart and ready hand, And wins no favor unbesought!