Randolph County journal. [volume] (Winchester, Randolph County, Ind.) 1855-1862, 1859-01-27

III ,. C. WHITTIER.

bf }. C. WHITTIER.
Maud Muller, on 4 summers dav,
Rakcd the meadow sweet with hay.
Beneatl, her torn hat glowe.l the wealth
OF simple beauty aud rustic health.
Singing, she wrought, and her merry glee
The mock bird echoed from every tree
BIT, when she glanced TO the far off town,
White from its hill slope looking down,
The sweet song died, and vague unrest,
And nameless longing filed her breast
A wish that she hardly dared to own,
For something better than she had known
The Judge rode slowly down the lane,
Smoothing his horses chestnut name.
r. drew bride In the shade
OF the apple-trees, to greet the maid.
And ak draught from the spring that
flowed
Through TIE meadow. arros. the road.
She stopped where the cool spring bubbl.d
And filled for him her small tin cup,
And blushed "a she gave it, looking down
On her feet SO bare and her tatttred gown.
"Thank..' said che Judge, "a sweeter
drlu.ht
From fairer hand WAS never duaf!ed."
He spoke of the grass, and flowers. and trees,
or the singing birds and the hummins bees
Then talked of the having, and wondered
whether
The cloud in the ives, would bring foul
weather.
.ind VI ,ud forgot her briar- torn gown.
And her graceful ancles bare and brown;
And listened, while a pleased surprise
Looked from her long lashed hazel eyes.
At last, like ore who for delay
Seeks vain excuse, he rode away
Maud Muller looked and sighed "Ah me.
That the Judges bride might be.
lie would dress me mp in silks so fine,
And praise and toast me at his wine.
Wy father should wear broadcloth coat;
NJ, brother should sail painted boat.
ia dress my mother so grand and gay,
And the baby should have new toy each day.
And III feed the hungry, and cloth the poor.
And all should bless nae who left Our door"
Tn, Judge look cd back as he climbed the hill. +.
And SAW Maud Muller standing still.
Il form more fair. and face more sweet.
Ne',r hath it been my lot to meet,
And her modest an ,wcr and graceful air
Shows her wise anu good as she is fair.
Would she were mine, and / to-day,
Like her, harvester of hay.
No doubtfui balance of rights and wrongs,
Nor weary LAWYERS with endless tongues;
F., But low of cattle, and song of birds,
I And health, and quiet, and loving words"
I f}u. he thought of his sister, proud anl cold
( And his mother, vain of her rank and gold.
SO. closing his heart, the Judge rode on;
Aud Maud WAS left in the field alone.
But the LAWYERS smiled tha; afternoon,
When he hummcd in court an old love tune
And the young girl muscd beside the well,
-. IL. 4 fill
lie welded a wife of richest dover,
vino lived for fashion as he for power.
Yet oft in his marble hearth's bright glow,
lie watched a picture come aud go;
And sweet Maud Muller's hazel eyes
Look out in their innocent surprise.
OF. when the wine in his glass was red.
He longed for the waysidc well instead;
And closed his eyes on his rarnished rooms,
To dream of meadows and clover blooms.
And the proud man sighed with secret pain
"Ah, that were free again.
Free as when rode that day,
Where the barefoot maiden rakcd the hay
She welded a man unlcarned and poor,
And many children PLAYED round her door.
But care and sorrow, and child birth pain
Left their traces on heart and brain.
And oft, when the summer sun shone hot
On the new mown ha, in the meadow lot,
And she heard the little spring brook fall
Over the roadside. through the wall,
In the shade of the apple tree again,
She saw rider draw his rein.
And, gazing down with timid grace.
She felt his pleased eyes read her face.
Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls
Str. tchcd away into stately halls;
The weary wheel to a spinnet turned,
The tallow candle an astral burned,
And for him who sat by the chimney log,
Dozing and grunbling Ger pipe and mug,
4 manly form at her side she saw,
And JOY was duty and love and law.
Then she took up her burden Of life again,
Saving only, at might have been"
Alas for maiden, alas for Judge.
For rich repiner, and household drudge.
God save them both, and pity US all.
Who pitingly the dreams of youth recall.
For of all the sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: cit might have been.
All, we'll. for US all some sweet hope lies
Deeply buried from human eyes;
And, i'm the hereafter, angels may
Rol the stone from its grave away.