The Hillsdale standard. [volume] (Hillsdale, Mich.) 1851-1909, 1863-10-20
MAUD MULLER.


The mock bird echoed from his tree.
But, when she glanced to the far-of town,
White from its hill-slope looking down,
The sweet song died, and vague unreat
And nameless longing filled her breost-.
A wish, that she hardly dayed 10 own. .g
For something better than she had known,
The Judge rode slowly down the lane.
Smoothing his horse's chestnut name.
He drew his bride in the shade
OF the apple-rees, to greet the maid,
And ask draught from the spring that flowed
Through the meadow ACROSS the road.
She stopped where the cool spring bubbled up,
And filled for him her small tin cup,
And blushed as she gave it, looking down
On her feet go bare, and her tattered gown.
g Thanks |" said the Judge, ga sweeter draughi
From fairer hand was never quaffed."
He spoke of the grass and flowers and trees,
OF the singing birds and the humming bees;
Then talked Of the hayilg, and wondered whether
The cloud in the west would bring foul weather
And Maud forgot her briert torn gown,
And her graceful ankles bare and brown;
And listened, while pleased surprise
Looked from her long lashed hazel eyes.
At last like one who for delay
Seeks vain excuse, he rode away.
Maud Muller looked, and sighed: "Ah, me!
That the JUICES bride might bel
: He would dress me up in silks so fine,
And praise and toast me at his wine.
"My father should weqr broadcloth coat;
My brother should sail painted beat;
"Td dress my mother so grand and gay,
And the baby should have new toy each day.
"And I'd feed the hungry and clothe the poor,
And all should bless De who left our door,"
The Judge looked back as he climbed the hill,
A" form more fair, q face more sweet
Ne'er hath it been my lot to meet;
"And her modest answer and graceful aip
Show her wise and good as she is fair.
nWould she were mine. and ! ta.daY.
Like her, q harvester of hays
"No doubtful balance OF rights and wrongs,
Nor weary lawyers with endless tongues,
Sc But low Of cattle and song of birds,
And health and quiet and loving words"
But he thought Of his sisters proud and cold,
And his mother vain Of her rank and gold.
So, closing his heart. the Judge rode on,
And Maud was left in the field alone.
But the lawyers smiled that afternoon.
When he hummed in court an old loye-tpne;
And the young girl mused beside the well,
Till the rain on the unraked clover fell.
He welded wife of richest dovar,
Who lived for fashion qs bp for power.
Vet of. in his marble hearth's bright glow,
he watched picture come and 60:
And sweet Maud Muller's hazel eyes
LOCKED out in their innocent surprise.
Oft when the wine in his glass was red,
He longed for the wayside we'll instead;
And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms,
To dream of meadows and clover blooms.
And the proud man sighed with secret pain
" All, that were free again
" Free as when rode that day,
Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay"
She welded man unlearned and poor,
And many children played round her door,
But care and sorrow. and childbirth pain,
Left their traces on heart and braip.
And oft, when the summer sun shone hot
On the new-pown hay in the meqd9w-lat,
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 dewp with dmid grass,
She felt his pleased eyes read her face. a
Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls
Stretched away into stately halls.
The weary wheel to q spipnet turned.
The allow candle an astral burned;
And Tor him who sat by the chimney Ing,
Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug.
A manly form at her side she saw,
And JOY was duty apd loye was law.
Then she took up her burden Of life again,
Saying only, " 1t might have bcen.n ~ it
Alas for maiden. alas for Judge,
For rich refner and household drudge!
God pity them both and pity us all, fT.r
Who vainly the dseams Of youth recaA.
For Of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: 1t might have beenp y,
All, we'll fos us oil some sweet hope lies
Deeply buried from human eyes; X g0 srA
And in the hereafter, angels may ~
Roll the stone from its grave awayi !.
-'e - ''~' John @. wAiffisy.
New Telegraph - Cslifpvpis, 4.
We learn from the San Francisco Morning.
'oH that tbs new line Is by the weslthiest
en in that city, aud that wire and material