Green Fields and Running Brooks, and Other Poems Part 5

BEING HIS MOTHER.

Being his mother--when he goes away I would not hold him overlong, and so Sometimes my yielding sight of him grows O So quick of tears, I joy he did not stay To catch the faintest rumor of them! Nay, Leave always his eyes clear and glad, although Mine own, dear Lord, do fill to overflow; Let his remembered features, as I pray, Smile ever on me! Ah! what stress of love Thou givest me to guard with Thee thiswise: Its fullest speech ever to be denied Mine own--being his mother! All thereof Thou knowest only, looking from the skies As when not Christ alone was crucified.

JUNE AT WOODRUFF.

Out at Woodruff Place--afar From the city's glare and jar, With the leafy trees, instead Of the awnings, overhead; With the shadows cool and sweet, For the fever of the street; With the silence, like a prayer, Breathing round us everywhere.

Gracious anchorage, at last, From the billows of the vast Tide of life that comes and goes, Whence and where n.o.body knows-- Moving, like a skeptic's thought, Out of nowhere into naught.

Touch and tame us with thy grace, Placid calm of Woodruff Place!

Weave a wreath of beechen leaves For the brow that throbs and grieves O'er the ledger, b.l.o.o.d.y-lined, 'Neath the sun-struck window-blind!

Send the breath of woodland bloom Through the sick man's prison room, Till his old farm-home shall swim Sweet in mind to hearten him!

Out at Woodruff Place the Muse Dips her sandal in the dews, Sacredly as night and dawn Baptize lilied grove and lawn: Woody path, or paven way-- She doth haunt them night and day,-- Sun or moonlight through the trees, To her eyes, are melodies.

Swinging lanterns, twinkling clear Through night-scenes, are songs to her-- Tinted lilts and choiring hues, Blent with children's glad halloos; Then belated lays that fade Into midnight's serenade-- Vine-like words and zithern-strings Twined through ali her slumberings.

Blessed be each hearthstone set Neighboring the violet!

Blessed every rooftree prayed Over by the beech's shadel Blessed doorway, opening where We may look on Nature--there Hand to hand and face to face-- Storied realm, or Woodruff Place.

FARMER WHIPPLE.--BACHELOR.

It's a mystery to see me--a man o' fifty-four, Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more-- A-lookin' glad and smilin'! And they's none o' you can say That you can guess the reason why I feel so good to-day!

I must tell you all about it! But I'll have to deviate A little in beginning so's to set the matter straight As to how it comes to happen that I never took a wife-- Kind o' "crawfish" from the Present to the Springtime of my life!

I was brought up in the country: Of a family of five-- Three brothers and a sister--I'm the only one alive,-- Fer they all died little babies; and 'twas one o' Mother's ways, You know, to want a daughter; so she took a girl to raise.

The sweetest little thing she was, with rosy cheeks, and fat-- We was little chunks o' shavers then about as high as that!

But someway we sort o' _suited_-like! and Mother she'd declare She never laid her eyes on a more lovin' pair

Than _we_ was! So we growed up side by side fer thirteen year', And every hour of it she growed to me more dear!-- W'y, even Father's dyin', as he did, I do believe Warn't more affectin' to me than it was to see her grieve!

I was then a lad o' twenty; and I felt a flash o' pride In thinkin' all depended on _me_ now to pervide Fer Mother and fer Mary; and I went about the place With sleeves rolled up--and workin', with a mighty smilin' face.--

Fer _sompin' else_ was workin'! but not a word I said Of a certain sort o' notion that was runnin' through my head,-- "Someday I'd mayby marry, and _a brother's_ love was one Thing--a _lover's_ was another!" was the way the notion run!

I remember onc't in harvest, when the "cradle-in'" was done-- When the harvest of my summers mounted up to twenty-one-- I was ridin' home with Mary at the closin' o' the day-- A-chawin' straws and thinkin', in a lover's lazy way!

And Mary's cheeks was burnin' like the sunset down the lane: I noticed she was thinkin', too, and ast her to explain Well--when she turned and _kissed_ me, _with her arm around me--law_!

I'd a bigger load o' heaven than I had a load o' straw!

I don't p'tend to learnin', but I'll tell you what's a fac', They's a mighty truthful sayin' somers in a almanack-- Er _somers_--'bout "puore happiness"--perhaps some folks'll laugh At the idy--"only lastin' jest two seconds and a half."--

But its jest as true as preachin'!--fer that was a sister's kiss, And a sister's lovin' confidence a-tellin' to me this:-- "_She_ was happy, _bein' promised to the son o' farmer Brown_."-- And my feelin's struck a pardners.h.i.+p with sunset and went down!

I don't know how I acted--I don't know _what_ I said, Fer my heart seemed jest a-turnin' to an ice-cold lump o' lead; And the hosses kind o' glimmered before me in the road, And the lines fell from my fingers--and that was all I knowed--

Fer--well, I don't know how long--They's a dim rememberence Of a sound o' snortin' bosses, and a stake-and-ridered fence A-whizzin' past, and wheat-sheaves a-dancin' in the air, And Mary screamin' "Murder!" and a-runnin' up to where

_I_ was layin' by the roadside, and the wagon upside down A-leanin' on the gate-post, with the wheels a whirlin' round!

And I tried to raise and meet her, but I couldn't, with a vague Sort o' notion comin' to me that I had a broken leg.

Well, the women nussed me through it; but many a time I'd sigh As I'd keep a-gittin' better instid o' goin' to die, And wonder what was left _me_ worth livin' fer below, When the girl I loved was married to another, don't you know!

And my thoughts was as rebellious as the folks was good and kind When Brown and Mary married--Railly must a-been my _mind_ Was kindo' out o' kilter!--fer I hated Brown, you see, Worse'n _pizen_--and the feller whittled crutches out fer _me_--

And done a thousand little ac's o' kindness and respec'-- And me a-wis.h.i.+n' all the time that I could break his neck!

My relief was like a mourner's when the funeral is done When they moved to Illinois in the Fall o' Forty-one.

Then I went to work in airnest--I had nothin' much in view But to drownd out rickollections--and it kep' me busy, too!

But I slowly thrived and prospered, tel Mother used to say She expected yit to see me a wealthy man some day.

Then I'd think how little _money_ was, compared to happiness-- And who'd be left to use it when I died I couldn't guess!

But I've still kep' speculatin' and a-gainin' year by year, Tel I'm payin' half the taxes in the county, mighty near!

Well!--A year ago er better, a letter comes to hand Astin' how I 'd like to d.i.c.ker fer some Illinois land-- "The feller that had owned it," it went ahead to state, "Had jest deceased, insolvent, leavin' chance to speculate,"--

And then it closed by sayin' that I'd "better come and see."-- I'd never been West, anyhow--a most too wild fer me, I'd allus had a notion; but a lawyer here in town Said I'd find myself mistakend when I come to look around.

So I bids good-bye to Mother, and I jumps aboard the train, A-thinkin' what I'd bring her when I come back home again-- And ef she'd had an idy what the present was to be, I think it's more 'n likely she'd a-went along with me!

Cars is awful tejus ridin', fer all they go so fast!

But finally they called out my stopping-place at last: And that night, at the tavern, I dreamp' I was a train O' cars, and _skeered_ at sumpin', runnin' down a country lane!

Well, in the mornin' airly--after huntin' up the man-- The lawyer who was wantin' to swap the piece o' land-- We started fer the country;' and I ast the history Of the farm--its former owner--and so-forth, etcetery!

And--well--it was _interestin'_--I su'prised him, I suppose, By the loud and frequent manner in which I blowed my nose!-- But his su'prise was greater, and it made him wonder more, When I kissed and hugged the widder when she met us at the door!--

_It was Mary_: They's a feelin' a-hidin' down in here-- Of course I can't explain it, ner ever make it clear.-- It was with us in that meeting I don't want you to fergit!

And it makes me kind o' nervous when I think about it yit!

I _bought_ that farm, and _deeded_ it, afore I left the town, With "t.i.tle clear to mansions in the skies," to Mary Brown!

And fu'thermore, I took her and _the childern_--fer you see, They'd never seed their Grandma--and I fetched 'em home with me.

So _now_ you've got an idy why a man o' fifty-four, Who's lived a cross old bachelor fer thirty year' and more, Is a-lookin' glad and smilin'!--And I've jest come into town To git a pair o' license fer to _marry_ Mary Brown.