Page:The Poets and Poetry of the West.djvu/645

 1850-60.] M. LOUISA CHIT WOOD. 629 fection, as flowers burdened with perfume," describes her " as a girl of medium stat- ure, of a kindly spirit ; of a genial, confiding nature. She was called beautiful. Her complexion was very fair, her cheeks rosy, her Wps red as coral, her eyes of a rich blue, soft and sweet in their expression ; her hands were small and white, her hair of a Haxen color, inclining to a golden hue, and was of great length." Miss Chitwood was preparing a volume of poems for the press when her last illness overtook her. Under the supervision of George D. Prentice, who wrote an introduc- tion for it, that volume has since been pubhshed* for the benefit of her mother, who resides at Mt. Carmel, Indiana. THE TWO POEMS. " I WILL sing," thus said a poet ; " I will weave a lay for fame ; " And his dark eye flashed and sparkled, And his pale cheek flushed with flame ; While with quick, impatient fingers, And with pale lips half apart. Did he wake the lyre to wailings, Groanings from a tortured heart. Then he sang a gorgeous poem, Like a kingly diadem ; Every line was like a jewel. Every word was like a gem ; And he cast it, smiling proudly, On the world's deceitful sea. Saying, as it floated onward, " Fame, oh ! bring fame back to me." On it went, that gorgeous poem, As the blue waves swept apart ; Captivating but the fancy — Never speaking to the heart ; For to those who paused to listen, The low dirge within its breast Gave it nothing but wild yearnings. Sadness, bitterness, unrest. But it twined the poet's forehead With a laurel wreath of flame ; He did reap what he bad planted, A rich harvesting of fame. " I will sing," thus said a poet ; " I will sing a lay for Love." Meekly were her dark eyes lifted To the quiet stars above ; Then there came a dear good angel. And her white wings o'er her press'd. Tuning to a low, sweet music Every pulse within her breast. Then with dreamy eyes and misty, And with red lip half apart. Wove she into words and stanzas The emotions of her heart. " Go," she said, " thou little poem, Go abroad like Noah's dove — Breathe to every heart a blessing, Bring me love ! oh, bring me love ! " Lightly went the little poem. Gladly on its mission sweet. Like a wave of wondrous beauty, Singing at the sailor's feet ; Like a green tree in the desert, Like a cooling water-brook, Like a lily by a river. Like a violet in a nook. & Co., 1857. 12mo. pp. 288.
 * Poems. By M. Louisa Chitwood — selected and prefaced by Q. D. Prentice. Cincinnati : Moore, Wilstach, Keys