Lancaster daily intelligencer. [volume] (Lancaster, Pa.) 1864-1928, 1881-08-26
DORRls's SPINNING'


FRIDAY EvENIN0, AUG. 20. 1881.
DORRls's SPINNING.
AN oLD-TIME BALLAD.
She sat at the upper chamber
II was q summer of long ago
And looked through the gable window
At the river that ran below,
And over the quiet pastures,
And up at the wide blue sky,
And envied the jay his freedom
As be lazily fitted by.
Yet patiently at her spinning,
In halo of happy light,
She wrought, though q simmer rippled
The heads of the wheat in sight
Though the garden was spilling over
Its cups on the fragrant air,
And the hOllyhocks ut the doorway
Had never looked half SO fair.
She saw, as her wheel kept whirling,
The leisure OF Nature too
The beautiful holiday weather
Left nothing for her to do.
The cattle were idly grazing.
And even the frisky sheep,
Away i'm the distant meadows,
Lay under the shade asleep.
So sitting, she heard sweet laughter.
And bcvy of maidens fair,
With IL babble of merry voices,
Come climbing the chamber stair;
80 Doris how can you bear 1t,
To drone ut your spinning here:
Why, girl. it's the heart of summer,
The goldencst time OF year!
Put out OF your hand the distaff,
This wearisome whirl relax
There are things that are gayer, Doris,
Than sitting and spinning flax;
Come with US away to the forest;
When it rains is the time to ply
Such tiresOme tasks-and to-day IS
The fifteenth day OF July"
With face that was softly saddcned.
Sweet Doris looked up and said,
As che ravelled a bit of tahSlc,
And twisted again her thread.
Nay, nay, must do my spinning!
1t wouldn't be kind or right
That the loom should De kept awaiting
My hanks must be done tonight.
Aye surely the day is lovely!
1t tugs at my very heart
To look at its drifting beauty,
Nor share in its joy my part;
Imay not 90 forth to meet II,
But the summer Is kind, you see,
And think, as sit ut my spinning
think 1t will come to me.
So the frolicsomc maidens left her,
Nay:s,, l,ipO # ill SurnriSe
That Doris should choose duty,
With pleasure before her eyes;
Not dreaming that when her mother.
Her "dOzens should count upstairs
And kiss her and say " My ddrti"g"
Her day would DC glad as theirs
So she minded her wheel, and blithcly
She sang rs she twirled it round,
And cunningly from her fingers
The delicate fibre wound;
And on through the sunny hours,
That neither were sad nor long.
She tOilcd in her sweet obedience,
And Iightcncd her toll with song.
She sin1s.)
"Comc hither, happy bir't',
With warbling WOO me,
Till songs that have no words
Melt through and through me!
Come, bees, and drop and rise
Within the clover,
Where yellow butterflies
Go glancing over!
Oroses, rcd and white,
And lilies, shining
Like giIlcd soblets bright
With silver lining
Each to my window send
Gifts worth tho winning,
To cheer me rs / bend
Above my spinning!
o ripples Oh the sand,
That break in beauty,
Opines, that stiffiy stand
Like guards on duty.
Grcen meadows, where, this morn,
The scythes were moving,
SOFT slopes, where DER the corn
The wind is blowing,
White clouds above tho hill
That sail together,
Rich summer scents, that fill
This summer weather.
All bring the sweets you've found
Since mOrn's beginning.
And come and crowd them round
My day of spinning ~
-Murgaret j. Preston. in Vide LEAK