The Emporia news. [volume] (Emporia, Kan.) 1859-1881, 1869-01-22

gives its name to handsome volume of hi
later poems:
For weeks the clouds had raked the hills
And vexed the wales with raining,
And ali the woods were sad with mist,
And all the brooks complaining.
AT last a sudden night-storm tore
The mountain wells asunder,
And swept the valleys clean before
The Bosom of the thunder.
Through Sandwich notch the west wind sang
Good morrow to the cOtter;
And once again Chocorua's horn
OF shadow pierced the water.
Above his broad lake Ossipee,
Once more the suns hine wearing,
STOPPED, tracing on that silver shield
His grim armorial bearing
Clear drawn against the hard blue sky
The peaks had winters keenness;
And, close on Autunn's frost, the wales
Had more than June's fresh greenness.
Again the sodden forest floors
With golden lights were eheckered,
Once more rejoicing leaves in wind
And sunshine danced and fiickered.
1t was as if the summers late
Atomng for its sadness
Had borrowed every seasons charm
To end its days in gladness.
called to mind those banded wales
OF shadow and of shining,
Through which. my hostess at my side,
drove in days declining.
We held our sideling way above
The rivers whitening shadows,
By homesteads old, with wide-f1ung barns
Swept through and through by swallows
By maple orchards, belts of pine
And larches climbing darkly
The mountain slopes. and. over all,
The great peaks rising starkly.
You should have seen that long hilI-range
With gaps of brightness riyen-
How through each pass and hollow streamed
The purpling lights of heaven
Rivers of gold-mist flowing down
From far celestial fountains
The great sun flaming through the riffs
Beyond the wall of mountains!
We paused at last where homc-bound cows
Brought down the pastures treasure,
And in tine barn the rhythmic fails
Beat out harvest measure.
We heard the night-hawk's sullen plunge,
The crow his tree-mates calling;
The shadows lengthening down the slopes
About our feet were falling.
And through them smote the level sun
In broken lines of splendOr,
Touched the gray rocks and made the green
OF the sEOrn grass more tender.
The naples bending DER the gate,
With yellow warmth, the golden glow,
OF coming autumn limited.
Keen white between the farmhouse showed,
And smiled on poarch and trellis.
The fair democracy of flowers
That equals cot and palace.
And weaving garlands for her dog,
'TwiXt chidings and caresses,
A human flower of childhood shook
The sunshine from her tresses.
On either hand we saw the signs
If fancy and of shrewdneSS,
Where taste had wound its arms of vines
Round thrifts uncomely Fudeness.
The sun-brown farmer I'm his frock
Shook hands and called to Mary;
Bare-armed, as Juno might. she came,
White-aprOned from her dairy.
Her air, her smile, her motions, told
OF womanly completeness;
A music as of household songs
Was in her voice of sweetness
Not beautiful in curve and line.
But something more and better,
The secret charm Guiding art,
Its spirit, not its letter;
An Unborn grace that nothing lacked
OF culture or appliance
The warmth of genial courtesy,
The calm of self-reliance.
Before her queenly womanhOod
How dared our hostess utter
The paltry errand of her need
To buy her fresh-churned butter.
She led the way with housewife pride,
Her goodly store disclosing,
Full tenderly the golden balls
| Her practiced hands disposing.