Old Spookses' Pass, Malcolm's Katie, and other poems by Isabella Valancy Crawford
page 97 of 243 (39%)
page 97 of 243 (39%)
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Sat Katie, smiling o'er the rich, fresh fields;
And by her side sat Malcolm, hale and strong; Upon his knee a little, smiling child, Nam'd--Alfred, as the seal of pardon set Upon the heart of one who sinn'd and woke to sorrow for his sins--and whom they lov'd With gracious joyousness--nor kept the dusk Of his past deeds between their hearts and his. Malcolm had follow'd with his flocks and herds When Max and Katie, hand in hand, went out From his old home; and now, with slow, grave smile He said to Max, who twisted Katie's hair About his naked arm, bare from his toil: "It minds me of old times, this house of yours; "It stirs my heart to hearken to the axe, "And hear the windy crash of falling trees; "Aye, these fresh forests make an old man young." "Oh, yes!" said Max, with laughter in his eyes; "And I do truly think that Eden bloom'd "Deep in the heart of tall, green maple groves, "With sudden scents of pine from mountain sides "And prairies with their breasts against the skies. "And Eve was only little Katie's height." "Hoot, lad! you speak as ev'ry Adam speaks "About his bonnie Eve; but what says Kate?" "O Adam had not Max's soul,' she said; "And these wild woods and plains are fairer far "Than Eden's self. O bounteous mothers they! "Beck'ning pale starvelings with their fresh, green hands, "And with their ashes mellowing the earth, |
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