Page:The poems of Edmund Clarence Stedman, 1908.djvu/146

POEMS OF NEW ENGLAND The bells are ringing, the ostlers bringing

The cutters up anew;

The beasts are neighing; too long we're staying,

The night is half-way through.

Wrap close the buffalo-robes,

We're all aboard once more;

Now jingle, jingle, jingle, jingle,

Away from the tavern-door.

So follow, follow, by hill and hollow,

And swiftly homeward glide.

What midnight splendor! how warm and tender

The maiden by your side!

The sleighs drop far apart,

Her words are soft and low;

Now, if you love her, love her, love her,

'T is safe to tell her so.

THE HEART OF NEW ENGLAND

are years of waiting, when lovers' hearts are bound

By words that hold in life and death, and last the half-world round;

Long, long for him who wanders far and strives with all his main,

But crueller yet for her who bides at home and hides her pain!

And lone are the homes of New England.

'T was in the mellow summer I heard her sweet reply;

The barefoot lads and lassies a-berrying went by;

The locust dinned amid the trees; the fields were high with corn;

The white-sailed clouds against the sky like ships were onward borne:

And blue are the skies of New England.

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