Page:Pocahontas and Other Poems (NY).pdf/259

258 And when the sire Descanted long, as farmers sometimes will, About the promise of his crops, and how The neighbours envied that his corn should be Higher than theirs, and how the man that hoped Surely to thrive must leave his bed betimes, Or of her golden cheese the mother told, She with a filial and serene regard Would seem to listen, her young heart away Mid other things. For in her lonely room She had companions that they knew not of— Books that reveal the sources of the soul, Deep meditations, high imaginings— And ofttimes, when the cottage lamp was out, She sat communing with them, while the moon Look'd through her narrow casement fitfully. Hence grew her brow so spiritual, and her cheek Pale with the purity of thought, that gleam'd Around her from above. The buxom youth, Nursed at the ploughshare, wondering eyed her charms, Or of her aspen gracefulness of form Spoke slightingly. Yet when they saw the fields Her father till'd, well clad with ripening grain, And knew he had no other heir beside, They with unwonted wealth of Sunday clothes, And huge red nosegays flaunting in their hands, Were fain to woo her. And they marvell'd much How the sweet fairy, with such quiet air Of mild indifference, and with truthful words Kind, yet determinate, withdrew herself To chosen solitude, intent to keep A maiden's freedom.