Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1878-12-03
And now one more of Dora's -


"In the hay loft, dark and sweet
With the breath OF new w.mown hay;
There the lights and shadows tall
Weird upon the scanned, SCARED wall,
And the duaky swallows soar
High above The broken noor,
Lightly poise on tiny feet,
Culver, dip and dart away"
These songs do not depend upon the youth
of their authors tor indulgence, but they
will sustain close criticism. No living
poet has exceled the jewelled perfection
OF such work as this; in its way 1t Is be-
yond praise. We call attention to the
las. line OF the habitual felicity OF these
poets in charging few words with
a perfect image Dora's description OF
the October atmosphere as sunlight
melted into sir"is another, and so Elaine's
vision OF departing Autumn:-
mixed with gray clouds that dimmed the sky
saw misty Figure lie
Tossed on 8 stormy death"
We have thus tar only spoken OF the
sisters in common, but not because it Is
difficult to individuslize them. They
| have the resemblance OF their sisterhood
and their mutual joys and inspirations.
but marked differences are already do
veloping. Poesy is the birthright OF BOTH
the natural expression OF their thoughts
and feelings, but Elaine has reflective g
and brooding habit OF mind. while Dora
IL vivldly intuiiive, aud has bubbing
buoyancy of song which is irresistibly
charming. In lightness and grace neither
exceeds tho other, but Dora has quick
sense OF bumor which balances certain
increasing gravity in the elder sister. This
bent of Elaine's mind has resulted in sew
eral peculiar poems.-two which remind
one in a measure OF Emily Bronte's weird
poems,-the Song to Summer" and
Through Storm and Calm" and i've
striking sonnets which occupy the last
pages of her half of the book, and are
the poems 10 which we alluded above. ss
trsnscending the thought OF childho cd.
Three of these record the death OF her
mothers mother, lovely and venerable
lady; the other two we quote:-
I-BABY.
Dimpled and flushed and dewy.pink he lies,
| Crumpled and tost and lapt in snowy bands
| Aimlessly reaching with his tiny hands,
Lining in wondering gaze his great blue eyes;
| liz. al h-h hraaf
| son cheeks wArm-tinted rs from tropic lands,
Framed with brown hair in shining sifen
| Strands
All fair, all pure, sunbeam from the skies:
| o perfect innocence o soul enshrned
! In bIissful ignorance of good or Ill,
BY never gale of idle passion crossed;
Although thou art no alien from my kinu' A.,
Though pain and death may take thee captive
Through sin, at least. thine Eden is not lost.
u-NoTHER.
Across her snowy couch she dropping lies,-
| A languor on her limbs that seems grace,
| A sacred pallor on her lily face,
! A blessed light reflected in her eyes.
She knows who drew her strength and would
not rise:
| sees her warm life-blood mantle In his face,
And strains her ear u catch his wailing cries.
o wondrous mother love how strange and deep
With what vibrating thrill OF tendernessi
To give the light, and smile, and walt 10 weep
Sweet as thine infants warm unconsciousness,
But sweeter thy mysterious, sacred power.
We do not say that all the verses here
printed are of this first quality. There
are some that might have been written by
other bright girls, Influenced by elder
cultivated minds; there are some In which
the fun or the fondness of the child breaks
through,-and these are very pleasant to
come across, since they tell so plainly OF
the happy naturalness of the life behind.
The home glimpses afforded by the ami