Oh, of the snow such fancies grow, 'Till thought is lost in wandering, And wondering If portions of their drapery The angel beings, sad to see So much of earth's impurity, Have dropped from clearer skies As snowflakes, hiding stain and blot To make this world a fairer spot, And more like Paradise.
One summer time, with love imbued, To climb the mount, explore the wood, Or rove from pole to pole, Upon Monadnock's brow I stood-- A lone, adventurous soul.
Beyond the Bay State border-line A sweeping vista, grand and fine, Embraced the Berkshire hills; Embosomed hamlets, clumps of pine, And country domiciles.
Afar, Mount Tom, in verdantique, And Holyoke, twin companion peak, Appeared gigantic cones; The burning sunlight scorched my cheek, And seemed to melt the stones.
Beneath a gnarled and twisted root I loosed a pebble with my foot That leaped the precipice, And like an arrow seemed to shoot Adown the deep abyss.
Beside the base that solstice day A city chap who chanced to stray Was shooting somewhat, too; Who, when the nugget sped that way, His firelock quickly drew.
While right and left he sought the quail, Or the timid hare that crossed his trail, Rang out a wild "Ha! ha!" That might have turned the visage pale Of a red-skinned Chippewa.
The game was his--for it made him quail; He flung his gun and fled the vale, The mountain-dwellers say, As though pursued by a comet's tail-- And disappeared for aye.
Fresh from piano, school, and books, A happy girl with rosy looks Young Plowman wooed and won; despite Her pretty, pouting prejudice, Her deep distaste for rural bliss Or countryfied delight.
Romance through all her nature ran-- Indeed, to wed a husband-man Suffused her ardent maiden thought; But lofty fancy dwelt upon A new "Queen Anne," a terraced lawn, A city's corner lot.
Her lily fingers that so well Could paint a scene--in aquarelle-- Or broider plush with leaves and vines, No more of real labor knew Than waxen petals of the dew On native eglantines.
Anon, with lapse of tender ways That emphasized the courting days, The housewife in her apron blue, As mistress of her new abode, By frequent lachrymations showed Her grief and blunders too.
The butter-making, bread and cheese, The old folks difficult to please, The harvest hands--voracious bears!-- The infantry, a parent's pride, By duos proudly classified: So multiplied her cares.