Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, GRACIE, by PHOEBE CARY


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

GRACIE, by                 Poet Analysis     Poet's Biography
First Line: Gracie rises with a light
Last Line: Men have wooed and maidens loved!
Subject(s): Teen-agers; Girls; Love – Beginnings


GRACIE rises with a light
In her clear face like the sun,
Like the regal, crowned sun
That at morning meets her sight:
Mirthful, merry little one,
Happy, hopeful little one;
What has made her day so bright?

Who her sweet thoughts shall divine,
As she draweth water up,
Water from the well-spring up?
What hath made the draught so fine,
That she drinketh of the cup,
Of the dewy, dripping cup,
As if tasting royal wine?

Tripping up and down the stair,
Hers are pleasant tasks to-day,
Hers are easy tasks to-day;
Done without a thought of care,
Something makes her work but play,
All her work delightful play,
And the time a holiday.

And her lips make melody,
Like a silver-ringing rill,
Like a laughing, leaping rill:
Then she breaks off suddenly;
But her heart seems singing still,
Beating out its music still,
Though it beateth silently.

And I wonder what she thinks;
Only to herself she speaks,
Very low and soft she speaks.
As she plants the scarlet pinks,
Something plants them in her cheeks,
Sets them blushing in her cheeks.
How I wonder what she thinks!

To a bruised vine she goes;
Tenderly she does her part,
Carefully she does her part,
As if, while she bound the rose,
She were binding up a heart,
Binding up a broken heart.
Doth she think but of the rose?

Bringing odorous leaf and flower
To her bird she comes elate,
Comes as one, with step elate,
Cometh in a happy hour
To a true and tender mate.
Doth she think of such a mate?
Is she trimming cage and bower?

How she loves the flower she brings!
See her press her lips to this,
Press her rosy mouth to this,
In a kiss that clings and clings.
Hath the maiden learned that kiss,
Learned that lingering, loving kiss,
From such cold insensate things?

What has changed our pretty one?
A new light is in her eyes,
In her downcast, drooping eyes,
As she walks beneath the moon.
What has waked those piteous sighs,
Waked her touching, tender sighs?
Has love found her out so soon?

Even her mother wonderingly
Saith: "How strange our darling seems,
How unlike herself she seems."
And I answer: "Oft we see
Women living as in dreams,
When love comes into their dreams.
What if hers such dreaming be?"

But she says, undoubtingly:
"Whatsoever else it mean,
This it surely cannot mean.
Gracie is a babe to me,
Just a child of scarce sixteen,
And it seems but yestere'en
That she sat upon my knee."

Ah wise mother! if you proved
Lover never crossed her way,
I would think the self-same way.
Ever since the world has moved,
Babes seemed women in a day;
And, alas! and welladay!
Men have wooed and maidens loved!





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