Page:Pocahontas, and Other Poems.djvu/124



they swept cleaner! — Here's a littering shred Of linen left behind — a vile reproach To all good housewifery. Right glad am I That no neat lady, train'd in ancient times Of pudding-making, and of sampler-work, And speckless sanctity of household care, Hath happened here to spy thee. She, no doubt, Keen looking through her spectacles, would say, "This comes of reading books:" — or some spruce beau, Essenc'd and lily-handed, had he chanc'd To scan thy slight superfices, 'twould be, "This comes of writing poetry." — Well — well — Come forth — offender! — hast thou aught to say? Canst thou by merry thought, or quaint conceit, Repay this risk that I have run for thee? — Begin at alpha, and resolve thyself Into thine elements. I see the stalk And bright, blue flower of flax, which erst o'erspread That fertile land where mighty Moses stretch'd