Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE QUAKER WIDOW, by BAYARD TAYLOR Poem Explanation Poet's Biography First Line: Thee finds me in the garden, hannah Last Line: The lord looks down contentedly upon a willing mind. Alternate Author Name(s): Taylor, James Bayard Subject(s): Friends, Religious Society Of; Widows & Widowers; Quakers | ||||||||
THEE finds me in the garden, Hannah, -- come in! 'T is kind of thee To wait until the Friends were gone, who came to comfort me. The still and quiet company a peace may give, indeed, But blessed is the single heart that comes to us at need. Come, sit thee down! Here is the bench where Benjamin would sit On First-day afternoons in spring, and watch the swallows flit: He loved to smell the sprouting box, and hear the pleasant bees Go humming round the lilacs and through the apple-trees. I think he loved the spring: not that he cared for flowers: most men Think such things foolishness, -- but we were first acquainted then, One spring: the next he spoke his mind; the third I was his wife, And in the spring (it happened so) our children entered life. He was but seventy-five; I did not think to lay him yet In Kennett graveyard, where at Monthly Meeting first we met. The Father's mercy shows in this: 't is better I should be Picked out to bear the heavy cross -- alone in age -- than he. We've lived together fifty years: it seems but one long day, One quiet Sabbath of the heart, till he was called away; And as we bring from Meeting-time a sweet contentment home, So, Hannah, I have store of peace for all the days to come. I mind (for I can tell thee now) how hard it was to know If I had heard the spirit right, that told me I should go; For father had a deep concern upon his mind that day, But mother spoke for Benjamin, -- she knew what best to say. Then she was still: they sat awhile: at last she spoke again, "The Lord incline thee to the right!" and "Thou shalt have him, Jane!" My father said. I cried. Indeed, 't was not the least of shocks, For Benjamin was Hicksite, and father Orthodox. I thought of this ten years ago, when daughter Ruth we lost: Her husband's of the world, and yet I could not see her crossed. She wears, thee knows, the gayest gowns, she hears a hireling priest -- Ah, dear! the cross was ours: her life's a happy one, at least. Perhaps she'll wear a plainer dress when she's as old as I, -- Would thee believe it, Hannah? once I felt temptation nigh! My wedding-gown was ashen silk, too simple for my taste; I wanted lace around the neck, and a ribbon at the waist. How strange it seemed to sit with him upon the women's side! I did not dare to lift my eyes: I felt more fear than pride, Till, "in the presence of the Lord," he said, and then there came A holy strength upon my heart, and I could say the same. I used to blush when he came near, but then I showed no sign; With all the meeting looking on, I held his hand in mine. It seemed my bashfulness was gone, now I was his for life: Thee knows the feeling, Hannah, -- thee, too, hast been a wife. As home we rode, I saw no fields look half so green as ours; The woods were coming into leaf, the meadows full of flowers; The neighbors met us in the lane, and every face was kind, -- 'T is strange how lively everything comes back upon my mind. I see, as plain as thee sits there, the wedding-dinner spread: At our own table we were guests, with father at the head; And Dinah Passmore helped us both, -- 't was she stood up with me, And Abner Jones with Benjamin, -- and now they're gone, all three! It is not right to wish for death; the Lord disposes best. His Spirit comes to quiet hearts, and fits them for His rest; And that He halved our little flock was merciful, I see: For Benjamin has two in heaven, and two are left with me. Eusebius never cared to farm, -- 't was not his call, in truth, And I must rent the dear old place, and go to daughter Ruth. Thee'll say her ways are not like mine, -- young people now-a-days Have fallen sadly off, I think, from all the good old ways. But Ruth is still a Friend at heart; she keeps the simple tongue, The cheerful, kindly nature we loved when she was young; And it was brought upon my mind, remembering her, of late, That we on dress and outward things perhaps lay too much weight. I once heard Jesse Kersey say, a spirit clothed with grace, And pure almost as angels are, may have a homely face. And dress may be of less account: the Lord will look within: The soul it is that testifies of righteousness or sin. Thee mustn't be too hard on Ruth: she's anxious I should go, And she will do her duty as a daughter should, I know. 'T is hard to change so late in life, but we must be resigned: The Lord looks down contentedly upon a willing mind. | Discover our poem explanations - click here!Other Poems of Interest...THE QUAKER GRAVEYARD by SILAS WEIR MITCHELL CASSANDRA SOUTHWICK; 1658 by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER FIRST-DAY THOUGHTS by JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER DRAB BONNETS by BERNARD BARTON THE QUAKER POET; VERSES ON SEEING MYSELF SO DESIGNATED by BERNARD BARTON VERSES SUPPOSED TO BE WRITTEN IN A BURIAL-GROUND .. SOCIETY OF FRIENDS by BERNARD BARTON A POETICAL VERSION OF A LETTER ON RESIGNATION, FROM JACOB BEHMEN by JOHN BYROM FAMILIAR EPISTLES ON A SERMON, 'OFFICE & OPERATIONS OF HOLY SPIRIT': 1 by JOHN BYROM FOR THE DUE IMPROVEMENT OF A FUNERAL SOLEMNITY by JOHN BYROM BEDOUIN [LOVE] SONG by BAYARD TAYLOR NATIONAL ODE; INDEPENDENCE SQUARE, PHILADELPHIA by BAYARD TAYLOR |
|