Page:Complete Poetical Works of John Greenleaf Whittier (1895).djvu/152

120   He does not know,” she whispered low,
 * “A little witch am I.”

All day he urged his weary horse,
 * And, in the red sundown,

Drew rein before a friendly door
 * In distant Berwick town.

A fellow-feeling for the wronged
 * The Quaker people felt;

And safe beside their kindly hearths
 * The hunted maiden dwelt,

Until from off its breast the land
 * The haunting horror threw,

And hatred, born of ghastly dreams,
 * To shame and pity grew.

Sad were the year’s spring morns, and sad
 * Its golden summer day,

But blithe and glad its withered fields,
 * And skies of ashen gray;

For spell and charm had power no more,
 * The spectres ceased to roam,

And scattered households knelt again
 * Around the hearths of home.

And when once more by Beaver Dam
 * The meadow-lark outsang,

And once again on all the hills
 * The early violets sprang,

And all the windy pasture slopes
 * Lay green within the arms

Of creeks that bore the salted sea
 * To pleasant inland farms,

The smith filed off the chains he forged,
 * The jail-bolts backward fell;

And youth and hoary age came forth
 * Like souls escaped from hell.

from Jerusalem
 * The king rode with his great
 * War chiefs and lords of state,

And Sheba’s queen with them;

Comely, but black withal,
 * To whom, perchance, belongs
 * That wondrous Song of songs,

Sensuous and mystical,

Whereto devout souls turn
 * In fond, ecstatic dream,
 * And through its earth-born theme

The Love of loves discern.

Proud in the Syrian sun,
 * In gold and purple sheen,
 * The dusky Ethiop queen

Smiled on King Solomon.

Wisest of men, he knew
 * The languages of all
 * The creatures great or small

That trod the earth or flew.

Across an ant-hill led
 * The king’s path, and he heard
 * Its small folk, and their word

He thus interpreted:

Here comes the king men greet
 * As wise and good and just,
 * To crush us in the dust

Under his heedless feet.”

The great king bowed his head,
 * And saw the wide surprise
 * Of the Queen of Sheba’s eyes

As he told her what they said.

O king!” she whispered sweet,
 * “Too happy fate have they
 * Who perish in thy way

Beneath thy gracious feet!

Thou of the God-lent crown,
 * Shall these vile creatures dare
 * Murmur against thee where

The knees of kings kneel down?”

Nay,” Solomon replied,
 * “The wise and strong should seek
 * The welfare of the weak,”

And turned his horse aside.

His train, with quick alarm,
 * Curved with their leader round
 * The ant-hill’s peopled mound,

And left it free from harm.

The jewelled head bent low;
 * “O king!” she said, “henceforth