Wood County reporter. [volume] (Grand Rapids [i.e. Wisconsin Rapids], Wis.) 1857-1923, 1892-08-04

Bound and The Sphinx Children, in 1886
Her contributions. however, were main
ly to magazines. OF her poems The Two
villages was the best known In New Eng
land for its tranquil pathos, which found
expression in the placid How OF the yer
sifcation. 1t ran like this:
THE TWO VILLAGES.
Over the river, on the hill,
Lieth village white and still;
All around 1t the forest trees
.Shivered and whispered in the breeze;
Over it sailing shadows 60
OF soaring hawk and screaming crow,
And mountain grasses, low and sweet,
Grow in the middle of the street.
Over the river, under the hill,
Another village lieth still,
There see in the cloudy night
Twinkling stars of household light,
Fires that CLEAN from the smithys door;
Mists that curl on the river shore;
And in the road no grasses grow,
For the wheels that hasten to and fro.
In that village on the hill
Never is sound of smithy or mill,
The houses are thatched with grass anC
flowers,
Never a clock to tell the hours;
The marble doors are always shut,
You cannot enter either hall or hut;
All the villagers lie asleep;
Never grain to SOW or reap;
Never in dreams to moan or sigh,
Silent and idle and low they lie.
In that village under the hill,
When the night is starry and still,
Many weary soul IN prayer
Looks to the other village there,
And, weeping and signing, longs to 60
Up to that home from this below:
Longs to sleep in the forest wild,
Whittier have vanished wife and child,
And heareth, praying, answer fall:
''Pstience! that village shall hold ye all!''
A touch of human experience was en-
bodied by her in these impressive lines:
EN- EsPAGNE.
built a palace, white and high,
With sweeping purple tapestrled;
No dusty highway ran thereby,
But guarded alleys to 1t led;
And snaven lawns about were spread,
Where bird and moth danced daiatils.
So era ,ious were its portals wide;
So light and fair the turrets stood,
No flaw mine eager eyes espied,
fashioned it, and called it good;
And lavished on its solitude
All furnishings of pomp and pride.
That was in golded summer time
The winter wind is bowling now,
My palace has passed out of time
The sward is only sheeted snow,
It's hanging with the dead leaves blow,
There comes an end to mortal prime.
And I, who laid it stone by stone,
Stone after stone do take 1t down.
What if king. whose state had flown
Should pull apart his regal crown?
For kingly hearts no fate can frown,
They rule forever er their own.
In different vein is the following arch
effusion. betraying a subtle humor which
sometimes interiaces the graVer magma
tiOas of the po tess:
s-ze7s:2 ONCE BEFORE.
Sole she sat beside her window,
Hearing only rain6rops pour,
Looking only on the shore,
When, outside the little easement,
Weeping IN q reigned AMUSEMENT,
Love stood knocking
Knocking at her bolted door.
Slow she swung the little easement
Where the autumn roses giowed,
Sweet and sad her deep eyes glowed,
And her voice, in gentlest measure,
Said aloud, Nor Love nor Pleasure
Can come in here any more
Never any norel"
''But am not Love nor Pleasure
| am but an orphan baby;
Lost my my mother is, or maybe
Dead she lies while am weeping
sobbed he child, his soft lie creeping
Softly through the bolted door
Through the maiden's door.
Low, she said in accents lonely:
sOnce | let him in before,
Once opened wide my door,
Ever since my life is dreary,
All my prayers are vague and weary;
Once let him in before,
Now I'll double-lock the door"
In the rain he stands imploring;
Tears and kisses storm the door,
Where she left him in before.
Will she never show repenting?
Will she ever, late reenting,
Let him in as once before?
Will she double-lock the door?
Among other poems written by Rose
Terry Cooke, which is interesting to those
who read them before as well as to new
readers, are as follows: