Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1923-02-14
THE CHEAT OF CUPID; OR THE UN-
GENTLE GUEST.

And did myself disclose
Unto the lad benighted.
| saw he had bow,
And wings, too, which did shiver:
And looking down below,
/ spied he had culver
to my chimney's shrine
Brought him, as Love processes.
And chafed his hands with mine,
And dried his dripping tresses.
But when that he felt warmed;
Let's try this bow of ours,
And string, if they be harmed,
Said he, with these late showers.
Forthwith his bow he bent,
And welded string and arrow,
And struck me- that it went
Quite through my heart and marrow.
Then, laughing loud he flew
Away, and thus said flying:
Adieu, mine host, adieu!
I'll leave thy heart a-dying.
Herrick.
Dear M. B. Friends:
How one thing leads to another!
Thinking that the next issue Of The
American would be February IA,
decided to have poem suitable for
that date, but l had no idea there
were so few stanzas devoted to Val
entine day. l searched collections
of poems, different magazines, and
even old calendars, but cupid had re-
tired from them all. One more re-
sort-"The Household Book of
Poetry of over 500 pages, printed
in 1879, with wealth of selections
rarely equalled in one volume-and
found therein what l wanted. l
hope some of you will be interested
in it.
Then it came to me that / was not
very we'll acquainted with Robert
Herrick, so I looked up his record
born in London, August 20. 1891,
and he died in October, 1874. For
a century and half his works were
neglected, but new edition Of his
poetical works was published in 1859.
Some of you who have heard the
song, Cherry Ripe" may not know
he wrote those stanzas.
In mentioning the poem of this
week ! intended to say that the
punctuation, and omission of quota
ton marks, are copied just as they
were printed in the Book of Po-
etry." Oh, dear! Now here's a
question Could l copy an "omis-
siou'' of any marks? However, will
say this; There were no quotation
marks in the poem which I copied.
hope that is right.
Dear Aunt Madge and NJ. BIS:
When at last l reluctantly gathered
up my Christmas greeting cards that
were standing cheerily three and four
deep on a mantel shelf I had such a
GOOD time rereading each one. Really,
It does seem IA wonderfully beautiful
thing for people to take a special time
of year to send good wishes to one
another, Among these was a greeting
from one whom, having not seen,
love" because of the personality ex-
pressed in this NJ. B. column.
Let me lay claim to the deepest
snow drifts. My two western kitchen
windows were covered--and everyone
who knows my house will say that
win the prize. | did not see my
clothesline for a week And our Their
mometer was "out of sight" literally
But--here's the moral--the window
that looks toward MY mountains was
clear and unobstructed. The very
thought is a poem in itself-of the soul
keeping always an outlook broad and
free. Don't you think so?
We have been reading our grand
fathers diary of sixty years ago. these
long evenings. Among the interesting
/ things to me is the fact that there was
no quarantine for scarlet fever then
The families went back and forth,
helping each other, and everyone
caught it, of course You all know
that in Ellsworth this winter that
same dread disease was isolated to a
single house and family. Surely, our
world moves forward
l have kept on my desk for a year
a little verse which I want to share
with you, if there should be space. 1t
is named
HOPE.
We slip the little beads along
Our rosary of years,
We count the sunshine and the song,
But never count the tears.
We see the blessings as they fall,
Though stumbling by the way
because our eyes are on the stars,
And Hope lights up the day!
(Aunt Madge, I hope you get a
thousand valentnesD
With heart looking toward spring,
Little A."
Lamoine Me, Feb. 5, 1928.
Thanks for your good CHEEKY let