Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THREE BASKETS, by MARGARET ELIZABETH MUNSON SANGSTER


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THREE BASKETS, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Bertha's basket: maiden bertha, with the / merry dancing eyes
Last Line: Folding dearest work for others, whether she be maid or wife.
Alternate Author Name(s): Van Deth, Gerrit, Mrs.
Subject(s): Grandparents; Household Employees; Love; Grandmothers; Grandfathers; Great Grandfathers; Great Grandmothers; Servants; Domestics; Maids


BERTHA'S basket: Maiden Bertha, with the merry dancing eyes,
And the brow whereon a shadow would be such a rare surprise—
What has she within this dainty shell of rushes silken-lined,
Where so many maiden musings innocently are enshrined?

Gayly mingling ends of worsted; beads that glitter silver-bright;
Fleece of Shetland, light and airy, lying there in waves of white;
Broidered linen, wrought for pastime in the dreamy summer hours;
And perhaps a poet's idyl, read amid the leaves and flowers.

Bertha's basket: Mother Bertha. Ah, serener light hath grown
In the thoughtful eyes; the forehead hath some flitting sorrows known.
In the larger basket looking, other handiwork we find,
Where the woman's heart its pleasure, love, and longing hath enshrined.

Little aprons; little dresses; little trousers at the knee
Patched with tender art, that no one shall the mother's piecing see;
Flannel, worked with skill and patience; and an overflowing store,
Every size, of little stockings, always needing one stitch more.

Bertha's basket: Grandma Bertha; for the years have run their way,
And it seems in looking backward it was only yesterday
That the maiden tripped so lightly, that the matron had her cares—
Age slips on so gently, gently, like an angel unawares.

Grandma's work is contemplative. With the scintillance of steel
Gleam the needles, smooth with flashing off the toe or round the heel,
Leisure days have found the lady; but her face is deeply lined,
And her heart is as a temple, where are hallowed memories shrined.

As along the dusty high-road rise the mile-stones one by one,
Telling here and there the distance, until all the way is done,
So a woman's basket marks her journey o'er the path of life,
Folding dearest work for others, whether she be maid or wife.





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