Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER, by ALICE CARY

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THE FARMER'S DAUGHTER, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Her voice was tender as a lullaby
Last Line: It lifted her white face up with the rest.
Subject(s): Suicide

HER voice was tender as a lullaby,
Making you think of milk-white dews that creep
Among th' mid-May violets, when they lie,
All in yellow moonlight fast asleep.

Aye, tender as that most melodious tone
The lark has, when within some covert dim
With leaves, he talks with morning all alone,
Persuading her to rise and come to him.

Shy in her ways; her father's cattle knew --
No neighbor half so well -- her footstep light,
For by the pond where mint and mallows grew
Always she came and called them home at night.

A sad, low pond that cut the field in two
Wherein they ran, and never billow sent
To play with any breeze, but still with-drew
Into itself, in wrinkled, dull content.

And here, through mint and mallows she would stray,
Musing the while she called, as it might be
On th' cold clouds, or winds that with rough gray
Shingled the landward slope of the near sea.

God knows! not I, on what she mused o' nights
Straying about the pond: she had no woe
To think upon, they said, nor such de-lights
As maids are wont to hide. I only know

We do not know the weakness or the worth
Of any one: th' Sun as he will may trim
His golden lights; he cannot see the earth
He loves, but on the side she turns to him.

I only know that when this lonesome pond
Lifted the buried lilies from its breast
One warm, wet day (I nothing know beyond),
It lifted her white face up with the rest.

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