Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/259

                                                And when the sire
Descanted long, as farmers sometimes will,
About the promise of his crops, and how
The neighbours envied that his corn should be
Higher than theirs, and how the man that hoped
Surely to thrive must leave his bed betimes,
Or of her golden cheese the mother told,
She with a filial and serene regard
Would seem to listen, her young heart away
Mid other things. For in her lonely room
She had companions that they knew not of—
Books that reveal the sources of the soul,
Deep meditations, high imaginings—
And ofttimes, when the cottage lamp was out,
She sat communing with them, while the moon
Look'd through her narrow casement fitfully.
Hence grew her brow so spiritual, and her cheek
Pale with the purity of thought, that gleam'd
Around her from above.
                                         The buxom youth,
Nursed at the ploughshare, wondering eyed her charms,
Or of her aspen gracefulness of form
Spoke slightingly. Yet when they saw the fields
Her father till'd, well clad with ripening grain,
And knew he had no other heir beside,
They with unwonted wealth of Sunday clothes,
And huge red nosegays flaunting in their hands,
Were fain to woo her. And they marvell'd much
How the sweet fairy, with such quiet air
Of mild indifference, and with truthful words
Kind, yet determinate, withdrew herself
To chosen solitude, intent to keep
A maiden's freedom.