The Milan exchange. (Milan, Gibson County, Tenn.) 1874-1978, 1875-11-18
AT THE COWPEN GATE.


1llS dreaQY-llS0t neart Wiling,
Small hands strong to do il all.
Bonny, blithe withal, and dainty
Swinging pail and trilling song
Booted high, her instep scOrning
The worn path she trips along.
Lips as red, and ripe, ami perfect
As Spanish maiden's own
Brow untamed by stubborn breezes-.
Cheeks kissed to the richest brown
Eyes of dusk, vet sweet and Joyous
With some maiden thought agleam-
One she found perhaps in dreaming
Last nights healthy, happy dream
Lashes up and down cOquetting-
Hair in curl to willow waist
Careless, winsOme; ne'er was farm-hou,
By a Sweeter milkmaid graced.
Triling to the wide horned cattle
Gayly an old milking tune,
Quaint and sweet-a MeXic ditty
Handed from the Grandame down.
Deft she ties the young calves tawny,
Stays the mOttled mothers till
The vastly pail flows over with the
FOamy white of many gill.
ScOlding Jute-persuading Dolly
Patting Nader, stroking Jet
For the young calves sleek and tawny,
Words bettting every pet.
Scattering widely wispS of fragrant
Hay, and clingy cotton seeds
Jenny knows the extra dainties
Which each great horned beauty needs
Then the pretty foot high booted
Taps tuft untramped and green
All impatient at the munching
Of the sober, great fifteen,
Till she sees across the prairie
NeighbOr Rupert riding down
Riding forth to gather cattle
He is off to Kansan soon.
What cares she-did she not say it?
Il will bless the very day
Nay, will not lift my finger,
(Saucy tinger) that you stay
Jaunt SOmbrerO-bOOtS atopping
kersey which should cover them
just way the cowboys have of
Roughing-it is best for them.
And he rides straight up as bearing
News which cannot stay or wait;
Riding Swiftly-Swift diSmOunting,
Throws his laSSO Ger the gate.
She undaunted lifts her lashes
To the eyes which question hers:
To his questions answering curtlv
With milkmaid's pretty airs.
Backward from the great gate sliding
Busy with some petted calf
Buster as she sees it swinging,
And the gate is opened half.
Something says which wins her nearer
SOmethinS-maybe a gOOd-by-
And this time no saucy laughter
Ripples in the low reply.
Long the cows feed, long the pony
Stamps beside the picket fence,
The near neighbOr seems not hurried
And no ''penning' calls him thence.
She with primrose which she gathered
When she set the fOamin@ pail,
Picking open all the blush leaves
While his quirt taps on the rail.
The strong breeze has swept the curling
Hair about her rosy brow,
And the great JmcOuth sombrerO
Hides the neighbor's glances now.
Gold cream rises on the milking,
The ''tifteen' stop near the gate,
Looking wistful to the prairie
Where the knee-high grasses wait.
Suddenly four eyes uplifting.
Each tells other that the bliss
or life Is full-and early counting
O'er the gate is not amiss.
One wee moment the sOmbrerO
Bends down gently low and meek,
And sun-brOwned mustache sweeps tn
Roses of glowing cheek.
Softly then the early neighbor
Loops the bride on his arm,
Walks across the mezquite prairie
Which has found another charm
Than the cattle Kansas doomed
lie would count perhaps amiSS,
For his heart counts but two blessings
Jenny-and the milkmaid's kiss.
Slow he walks while he is tbrtImmino
Scraps of an old fashioned tune:
Crushing meath his feet the clovers.
For his heart is light as June.
Dreamily she lifts the milking,
Softly grooming something new
Not that Olden MeXic ditty,
But song she never knew
Till she learned il but a moment
Since beside the swinging gate,
When the great uncOuth sOmbrero
ShadOwed all her lifelong fate.
O'er the primrose tufts and grasses
Slow she walks nor dreams in vain
OF the home the neighbor promised
When the spring had come but twain.
When two hands, strong, brawny, willin.
Shall unlatch the cOw-pen gate
Nor she knows that Jenny's breakfast
On this morning waits too late.
She is dreaming-not of straining
The white milk in tins away,
But of Rupert and the merry
Making for the wedding day;
When the father and the mother
Saddened, gladdened by and by
Shall add tears with many a blessing
In their loving, long goodbye.
And the twain, young, hopeful, willing,
Each unto the other blest,
Shall together keep the cottage,
On the ''Ranch' out further West.
The pied clouds have left the sunrise,
Left the azure to its gold,
And the white day with its sunshine
Moves without cloudy fold.
Higher sweeps the breeze from seaward
WantOning the blushing cheek,
And all day the roses deepen
For the early neighbor's sake.
For his sake two sweet lips quiver
With a song of perfect bliss;
Household cares 90 plucking roses,
And one dimple keeps his kiss.
7 IT