Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MARJORIE, by JOHN TROTWOOD MOORE


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MARJORIE, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Up in the hills of tennessee
Last Line: That girl is mine—my marjorie!
Subject(s): Hearts; Love - Nature Of


UP in the hills of Tennessee
Lives Marjorie—sweet Marjorie.

There ain't a bird but stops his song
When down the lane she rides along—
Stops his singin' just to stare
And wonder where she got that hair
So deeply golden, floatin' there!
And why her eyes ain't baby blue
Instead of twilight beamin' through?
(For birds do know a thing or two!)
They know that wavy, rosy flout
Of sunset tress in dreamy rout
Should have some sky of blue about.
But when them eyes, full to the brim
Of stars and love, look up at them,
And daylight blush o'er cheek is spread
From cheeks just pulped to melon red,
And o'er that sweet dream face is born
The light that kind o' comes with morn,
They ketch their breaths and sing away—
She's turned their eve to break o' day!

Up in the hills of Tennessee
Lives Marjorie—brave Marjorie.

Loud boomed the Harpeth, as adown
She rode like mad to Franklin town.
The Judge's daughter—the county's star—
(For years I'd worshiped her afar!)
"Too high in life," they whispered me,
"To look with favor, lad, on thee."
But love will climb to star itself—
What careth it for worldly pelf?
The Judge was stricken; to the ford,
A keen plum switch for stingin' goad,
Her saddle mare like mad she rode!
Forgetting flood and angry wave
She spurred—her father's life to save!
(Alas, her own she all but gave.)
Plowin' that day on the horse-shoe side,
I stopped when I saw her frantic ride.
I rushed where the tall creek willows grow—
Where the swirling waters roared below—
I waved, I beckoned, shouted—all
Were lost in the lashing water's fall!
I saw the mare swept from her feet,
I saw an emptied saddle seat.
I plunged—what cared I for the roar,
Born, as I was, on the Harpeth shore?
What to me was my burden frail,
I, who could lift a cotton bale?
Did e'er an arm that had tossed the wheat
Hold before a bundle so sweet?

But Harpeth was mad as a frenzied colt,
And shot his flood like a thunderbolt.
The big waves swept with giant scorn,
And once I thought we both were gone!
Did she know it, then, when a kiss I brushed
On cheek that e'en in the waters blushed?
Did she hear the words of love I said?
(I couldn't help it—I thought she was dead!)
Struggling, battling, I landed, but could
Not meet her eyes—she understood.
"I'm safe," she said, and my hand she took,
(And gave me one, just one love look,)
"Now mount your horse, for the doctor ride;
Save my father and—I'm your bride!"

Up in the hills of Tennessee
Lives Marjorie—dear Marjorie.

You can't climb up that tall hill there
And look way down that valley fair,
But what your gaze will rest on ground
That's mine—all mine—for miles around.
That Jersey herd, that bunch of mares,
Them frisky colts with all their airs,
That Southdown flock in yonder dell,
Followin' the tinklin' wether-bell,
Them barns and paddocks gleaming white,
That home shut in with God's own light,
And all them fields of wheat and corn
That sweep clear down to Amberhorn.
I earned 'em all—no gamblin' tricks,
But hones' work and tellin' licks.

But best of all, 'twixt you and me,
That girl is mine—my Marjorie!





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