The Huntington argus. [volume] (Huntington, W. Va.) 1872-1905, 1873-04-05
The Maid with the Milking Pail.

what chs-gc has made the pasture sweet,
And reached the daisies at my feet, a
And cloud that wears golden hem!
This lovely world, the hills, The sward--
They all look fresh, as il our Lord
But yesterday had finished them.
And here's the field with light glow:
How fresh 1t. boundary lime trees show.
And how its wet leaves trembling shinei
Bet~een their trunks come through to me
The morsing sparkles of the sea
Below the level of the browsing line.
l sec the pool more clear by half
Ihnn pools where other waters laugh
Up at the breasts Of coot and rail.
There, as she passed it on her way,
saw reflected yesterday
maiden with milking pail.
There, neither slowly nor in haste,
One hand upon her slender waist,
Tho other lifted to her pail,
She rosy in the morning light.
Among tho water-dasics white,
Like some fair sloop appeared to sail.
Against her ankles as she trod,
The lucky buttercups did nod.
leaned upon the gate to see;
Tho sweet thing looked, but did not speak;
A dimple came in either cheek,
And all my heart was gone from me.
Then, as I fingered on tho gate,
And she came up like coming fate,
saw my picture in her eyes
Clear dancing eyes, more black than sIocs,
Cheeks like tho mountain pink, that grows
Among the white headed majestics.
l said, "a tale was made of old
That would fain to thee unfold:
All! lot me-let me tell the tale"
But high che held her comedy head;
Il cannot heed it now" she said,
'For carrying of tho milking pail"
She laughed. What good to make ados
/ held the gate, and she came through,
And took her homeward path anon.
From the clear pool her face had fled;
II rested on my soul instead,
Reflected when the maid was gone.
with happy youth, and work content,
20 sweet and stately on she went,
Right careless of the untold tale.
Each step she took loved her more,
And followed to her dairy door,
The maiden with the milking pail.
Por hearts where Weakened love doth Turk.
How fine. how blest thing is work!
For work does good when reasons fail
doodi yet the axe at every stroke
The echo Of her name awoko-
Her name is Mary MartindnIe.
I'm glad that echo was not heard
Alright by other men; bird
Knows doubtless what his own notes tell:
And know not, but can say
felt as shame faced all that day
As II folks heard her name right we'll.
And when tho West began to glow
L vent e0nld not choose bat go
To that same dairy ON the hill;
And while sweet Mary moved about
Within, came TO her without,
And leaned upon the window sill.
The garden border where stood
was sweet with pinks and southernwoOd;
spoke-hcr answer seemed to fail:
smclt the Pinks-I could not see;
The dusk came down and sheltered me,
And in the dusk she hearcd the tale.
And what Is left that should tell?
begged a kiss, pleaded:
The rosebud lips did long decline;
But yet think, think tits true.
That, Leaned at last into the dew,
One little iBsiaRi they we're mine.
o life! how dear thou hast become:
She laughed at dawn, and was dumb
But evening eoHnsels best prevailed.
Fair shine the blue that DER her spreads,
Green be the pastures where she treads,
The maiden With the milking pail.