Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

MY LITTLE CAPE COD MAIDEN by KATHERINE FINNIGAN ANDERSON

First Line: I BROUGHT HER FROM THE SAND - DUNES
Last Line: WITH THE SEA-WEED IN HER HAIR.
Subject(s): CAPE COD; WINDMILLS;
I brought her from the sand-dunes,
From the sand-dunes and the sea,
And I placed her in my garden
Where the wind blows recklessly,
And the storms beat down upon her,
But she doesn't seem to care—
This little Cape Cod maiden,
With the sea-weed in her hair.

She is winsome and attractive,
Though demure to a degree,
And I've christened her Priscilla,
Which is fitting, you'll agree,
Since her forbears crossed the ocean,
With those pious sons of God,
Who came over in the Mayflower,
And anchored off Cape Cod.

She wears a bright, blue kirtle,
And a hood which frames her face
In a fascinating manner,
Giving her an added grace,
As she steers her dainty windmill
With a firm, unfaltering hand,
In uttermost obedience
To every least command

Of the wind, whether it whistles
With a gusto through the trees,
Or sweeps across the garden,
In a playful summer breeze.
And sometimes as I watch her,
Perched upon her iron rod,
I fancy that she's longing
For the shores of old Cape Cod;

For the sea-gull's ribald laughter,
And the moaning of the tide,
Or, maybe, she's just longing
To be a sailor's bride,
And to wander o'er the sand-dunes,
With her lover hand in hand,
When the glory of the spring-tide
Is abroad in all the land.

She has been my boon companion
In the sunshine and the rain,
Being always at her station,
Just outside my window-pane;
And I've learned from her the lesson
Of simply standing still,
Moving only as God moves me,
In obedience to His will.

I brought her from the sand-dunes,
From the sand-dunes and the sea,
And I placed her in my garden
Where the wind blows recklessly,
And the storms beat down upon her,
But she doesn't seem to care—
This little Cape Cod maiden,
With the sea-weed in her hair.



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