Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1900-01-08
A MID LOVE
BY
RERTHA M CTAV

and then she stood still and motionless
as a marble statue.
The blue and white pigeons were
cooling loudly, as though they would
tell each other it was time to rest, the
birds were singing their vesper hymn,
the cattle had all been driven to rest,
the Iaborers had ceased their toll in
the garden and white lilies had opened
their cups to catch the dew; it was
all so sweet and still, as though d
blessing from heaven lay on it.
The silent watcher stirred when she
heard the baying of a hound.
THAT is Rover she said to herself,
land he would know me. What would
Uncle Robert say if he knew his lady
lass was so near?"
She walked on through the green
lane, where the hedges were one mass
of wild rose bloom, through the fields
where the clover lay so sweet and
fragrant, until she came to the mill
stream. Her heart gave one bound as
she saw it.
The picturesque old mill, half hidden
in foliage, and the great round wheel,
| half hidden in the clear stream. There
were the water-lilies lying quite at
rest now; there were the green reeds
and sedges; the nests of blue forget
me-nots; the little waterfall where
the white rock rose in the middle of
the stream, and the water ran over it.;
the same green branches dipped in the
water, the same trees shaded it. She
sat down in the same spot where she
had sat with him. She remembered
how the ring had fallen into the little
clear pool and he had found it. The
same, and yet how different. And sit
ting there, with the wreck of her life
round her, she sung in a low voice the
words that to her had been so full of
prophecy:
In sheltered vale a mill-wheel
Still sings it's tuneful lay.
My darling once did dwell there,
But now she's far away.
A ring in pledge I gave her.
And VOWS of love we spoke;
These vows are all forgotten,
The ring asunder broke"
How true and how cold the prophecy
had been. AS she sat there she saw
a light in the mill and the wheel be-
gan slowly to turn.
Foaming, laughing, singing, the
water ran away shining in the red
light of the setting sun, golden in the
little wavelets that kissed the banks.
Slowly the falling water set itself to
music, and the rhythm was always:
'I would the grave could hide me.
For there alone is peace"
Shine on, setting sun. Sing on, fall
ing water There is no peace save in
death and in heaven. Sing on, little
birds, throw your sweet shadows,
dewy nights; there is no peace but in
death.
She lay down on the green bank and
the water foaming by sung to her-it
was all so sweet, so silent, SO still.
One by one the little birds slept, one
by one the flowers closed their eyes,
the roseate clouds faded and the gray
soft mantle of night fell on the earth.
SO sweet and still-the stars came
out in the sky, in the woods nightin-
gale began to sing; the fire went out
in her brain; the pain ceased; she
grew calm as one on whom dread
shadow lies.
The lovely, laughing water, with the
CLEAN of golden stars in it, falling
with the rhythm of sweetest music.
She drew nearer, she laid one hand on
the little wave1ets, and the cool, sweet
touch refreshed her
The night, so sweet and still, with
the gray shade of the king of terrors
rising from the mill-stream. The
water-lilies seemed to rise and come
near to her, thousand sweet voices
her.
There alone is peace" sung the
nightingale; There alone is peace"
sung the lilies; There alone is
peace" sung the Ginning waters. She
drew nearer to them. Heaven only
knows what ideas were in that over
balanced brain and distraught mind.
Looking in the clear waters she saw
the golden stars shining; perhaps she
thought she was reaching to them. A
little low cry fell on the night air. A
cry that startled the ring-doves, but
fell on no mortal ear.
"Mine was always a mad love-" she
said to herself; ''a mad love-" and the
voice that had gladdened the hearts
of thousands was heard on earth no
more.
A'mad love, indeed; she went nearer
to the cleaning waters; they seemed
to rise and Unfold her; the water-lilies
seemed to hold her up. 1t seemed to
her rather that she went up to the
stars than down to the stream. There
was no cry, no sound, as the soft
waters closed over her, as the water
lilies foated back entangled in the
meshes of a dead woman's hair.
In the grave alone was peace, So
she lay through the long, sweet, sum-
mer night, and the milI-stream sung