“Join us!” cried the laughing May,
“To the beach we all are going,
And, to save the task of rowing,
West by north the wind is blowing,
Blowing briskly down the bay!
Come away, come away!
Time and tide are swiftly flowing,
Let us take them while we may!
“Never tell us that you ’ll fail us,
Where the purple beach-plum mellows
On the bluffs so wild and gray.
Hasten, for the oars are falling;
Hark, our merry mates are calling;
Time it is that we were all in,
Singing tideward down the bay!”
“Nay, nay, let me stay;
Sore and sad for Robert Rawlin
Is my heart,” she said, “to-day.”
“Vain your calling for Rob Rawlin!
Some red squaw his moose-meat’s broiling,
Or some French lass, singing gay;
Just forget as he’s forgetting;
What avails a life of fretting?
If some stars must needs be setting,
Others rise as good as they.”
“Cease, I pray; go your way!”
Martha cries, her eyelids wetting;
“Foul and false the words you say!”
“Martha Mason, hear to reason!
Prithee, put a kinder face on!”
“Cease to vex me,” did she say;
“Better at his side be lying,
With the mournful pine-trees sighing,
And the wild birds o’er us crying,
Than to doubt like mine a prey;
While away, far away,
Turns my heart, forever trying
Some new hope for each new day.
“When the shadows veil the meadows,
And the sunset’s golden ladders
Sink from twilight’s walls of gray,—
From the window of my dreaming,
I can see his sickle gleaming,
Cheery-voiced, can hear him teaming
Down the locust-shaded way;
But away, swift away,
Fades the fond, delusive seeming,
And I kneel again to pray.
“When the growing dawn is showing,
And the barn-yard cock is crowing,
And the horned moon pales away:
From a dream of him awaking,
Every sound my heart is making
Seems a footstep of his taking;
Then I hush the thought, and say,
‘Nay, nay, he’s away!’
Ah! my heart, my heart is breaking
For the dear one far away.”
Look up, Martha! worn and swarthy,
Glows a face of manhood worthy:
“Robert!” “Martha!” all they say.
O’er went wheel and reel together,
Little cared the owner whither;
Heart of lead is heart of feather,
Noon of night is noon of day!
Come away, come away!
When such lovers meet each other,
Why should prying idlers stay?
Quench the timber’s fallen embers,
Quench the red leaves in December’s
Hoary rime and chilly spray.
But the hearth shall kindle clearer,
Household welcomes sound sincerer,
Heart to loving heart draw nearer,
When the bridal bells shall say:
“Hope and pray, trust alway;
Life is sweeter, love is dearer,
For the trial and delay!”
THE GARRISON OF CAPE ANN
From the hills of home forth looking, far beneath the tent-like span
Of the sky, I see the white gleam of the headland of Cape Ann.
Well I know its coves and beaches to the ebb-tide glimmering down,
And the white-walled hamlet children of its ancient fishing-town.
Long has passed the summer morning, and its memory waxes old,
When along yon breezy headlands with a pleasant friend I strolled.
Ah! the autumn sun is shining, and the ocean wind blows cool,
And the golden-rod and aster bloom around thy grave, Rantoul!
With the memory of that morning by the summer sea I blend
