Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, MISS LUCINDA'S OPINION, by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MISS LUCINDA'S OPINION, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: But why do I keep thanksgiving?
Last Line: And I'd not change place with a queen.
Alternate Author Name(s): Van Deth, Gerrit, Mrs.
Subject(s): Gratitude; Holidays; Home; Thanksgiving


BUT why do I keep Thanksgiving?—
Did I hear you aright, my dear?
Why? When I'm all alone in life,
Not a chick nor a child to be near;
John's folks all away in the West,
Lucy across the sea,
And not a soul in the dear old home
Save a little bound girl and me?

It does look lonesome, I grant it;
Yet strange as the thing may sound,
I'm seldom in want of company
The whole of the merry year round—
There's spring when the lilac blossoms,
And the apple-trees laugh in bloom,
There's summer when great moths flit and glance
Through the twilight's star-lit gloom.

Then comes the beautiful autumn,
When every fragrant brier,
Flinging its garlands on fence and wall,
Is bright as living fire;
And then the white, still winter time,
When the snow lies warm on the wheat,
And I think of the days that have passed away,
When my life was so young and sweet

I'm a very happy woman
To-day, though my hair is white,
For some of my troubles I've overlived,
And some I keep out of sight.
I'm a busy old woman, you see, dear,
As I travel along life's road,
I'm always trying as best I can
To lighten my neighbor's load.

That child? You should think she'd try me?
Does she earn her bread and salt?
You've noticed she's sometimes indolent,
And indolence is a fault;
Of course it is, but the orphan girl
Is growing as fast as she can,
And to make her work from dawn till dark
Was never a part of my plan.

I like to see the dimples
Flash out on the little face,
That was wan enough, and still enough,
When first she came to the place.
I think she'll do, when she's older;
A kitten is not a cat,
And now that I look at the thing, my dear,
I hope she'll never be that.

I'm thankful that life is peaceful;
I should just be sick of strife,
If, for instance, I had to live along
Like poor Job Slocum's wife;
I'm thankful I didn't say "yes," my dear, thankful as I can be,
When Job, with a sprig in his button-hole,
Once came a-courting me.

I'm thankful I'm neither poor nor rich,
Glad that I'm not in debt;
That I owe no money I cannot pay,
And so have no call to fret.
I'm thankful so many love me,
And that I've so many to love,
Though my dearest and nearest have gone before
In the beautiful home above.

I'll always keep Thanksgiving
In the good, old-fashioned way,
And think of the reasons for gratitude
In December, and June, and May,
In August, November, and April,
And the months that come between;
For God is good, and my heart is light,
And I'd not change place with a queen.





Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!


Other Poems of Interest...
Home: PoetryExplorer.net