Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, DAISY SWAIN, THE FLOWER OF SHENADOAH; A TALE OF THE REBELLION: 1, by JOHN M. DAGNALL


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

DAISY SWAIN, THE FLOWER OF SHENADOAH; A TALE OF THE REBELLION: 1, by                    
First Line: Long ere ruthless civil war laid waste
Last Line: They idolized with fond, indulgent care.
Subject(s): American Civil War; Beauty; Death; Love; Soldiers; United States - History; Women; Dead, The


Long ere ruthless civil war laid waste
The fertile Shenandoah Valley, there dwelt,
In all his rustic nature true, and free
As the wind, contented Reuben Swain. On
A green mound, close by a stream, zigzagging
Like an eel on sandy bed around the vale,
Reuben's lovely home, a neat white cot, stood
Raised on cedar spiles. This marked his prudent mind;
As ague poisons lurk in meadow damp
And spring freshets had inundate the plain.
No cupola his cottage roof adorned,
Nor did paintings decorate its inner walls [.]
All such ornate pride he left to autocrats,
To tilted [sic] lords, and traffic's purse-proud kings.
For, truly, Reuben's nature was too simple
And full of the most gentle virtues as
To even think of such vain, showy things;
No, his pride was only that of self-respect.
Being one of God's true creatures, Reuben,
Ere each morning sun arose, would upon
His bended knees, at matin prayer, offer
Up his humble thanks to the Giver of all good
For blessings which he hourly conferred,
Of health and vigor, with their many joys,
Cheering his path through life to ripe old age.

* * *

But the numbing hand of time had scarcely
Affected Reuben's senses; for his ear
Was then as quick to catch faint sounds, as when
A boy, hunting squirrels in the wild woods;
And therefore sounds of friendly footsteps knew
From the stealthy tread of a sneaking foe.
Nor was his the sluggard's leaden sleep, who
Will, even when his eyes are open, lie
In supine lethargy dozing, peering
Through a misty veil of film; and blinking
In the light of day, soon again drop off
Unconsciously to sleep. But no such languor
Blurred the light of Reuben's eyes: once their lids
Were raised, their lamps would brightly burn renewed
With vigor's oil, by which he'd soon discern
Strange visions, should they near him flit at night;
Which as soon as seen about, his hand
Would on his gun, already primed to kill
The prowling wolf and panther sly, that sometimes
From their lairs in forests wild came, and raised
Nocturnal havoc 'mong his sheep, be clasped.
Then, as to his neighbors of the plain, Reuben
Knew their habits, tastes, and pedigrees too well
To fear his gold would jaundice their eyes. They
Reuben's gentle, upright nature also knew;
Knew that the beam of divine justice shone
In his heart to every one alike within
The valley; and blending theirs with his, lived
In peace and harmony together:
For each one's sense of equity was just.
Honor was kind Reuben's guide; probity
Their counsellor; nothing foul corrupted
Reuben's mind; nor was his taste depraved;
His bev'rage was the same that Adam drank:
Water pure from clear springs and rocky founts.
This he knew would poison nought within, nor
Thrill his nerves awhile with spurious ecstacy,
To deaden the keen sensibility
Of body, heart, and soul, like alcohol,
The demon, that fires with delirium
The drunkard's brain, and fills the minds of men
With dark designs and treason's treach'rous guilt,
Angry quarrels, murder; then remorse which
Struggles hard with sleep. No, Reuben would shrink
With loathing from the devil's nectared bane,
And aught which tended to engender heat
Of blood, burning thirst, and gusts of passions vile.
Temperate wishes only were in his soul.

The fleecy fabric shorn from his own sheep,
Woven on his own loom, sufficed to guard
His body 'gainst inclement gales, and warm
Him in the fiercest wintry blow; and in
This simple raiment clad, Reuben felt
As great as any Eastern nabob proud,
Bedecked with royal robes; as nature's lord
Was he, and reigned supreme in his neat cot,
His castle proud on nature's realms built,
On a green lawn, within a bounteous plain,
Where creation was prolific with her products.

To Reuben 'twas the loveliest spot on earth,
Where many sunny years of bliss he passed,
Sharing the joys of dear domestic life
With the partner of his soul, his Nancy dear,
More faithful, fair, and kind than half of those
Who blaze in vain, proud, ostentatious show:
One who knew her duties well, her womanly sphere,
And the sweet pleasures of the virtuous heart;
Which was the only bliss her husband sought.

There, in the quiet place wherein the happy pair
Found shelter, food, and rest, reason ruled
Their minds and guided them with judgment; for
Too well they understood the sacred bond,
By which their two dear souls were bound as one,
To mar their wedded bliss with household jars,
Knowing angry breath in ears young is baneful:
And in sweet connubial union their love
Long ago had multiplied itself. The seed
From vigorous stem was cull'd, and free from
Withering blight; kind nature undertook
The task imposed; and time brought forth a bud
Of grace, all tenderness, which doubly blest
Their yoke, and crowned with joy their nuptial couch.

The germ in beauty's mould was cast, budded
Forth, and blossomed; in sacred soil grew up
To vernal morn of life, fresh as a rose
In unmolested shade, or violet chaste
In all its virgin freshness, unassuming,
Modest, all rural grace, and simple charms.

The joy of her pure heart, all smiles, all cheer,
Like rising sunlight on a dewy lawn, shone
On her dimpling cheeks; rouged with tincture from
Vermeil meads: health's purpling flood that coursed in
Her azure veins.
The vital essence glowed
In her eyes, radiant, pure, and mild, like two
Bright orbs fixed in the coronet of Heaven:
Endowed they seemed with photographic power
To print from blooming flowers certain shades;
As they one noon-time bright, while ardently
Fixed upon a variegated bed, drew
By some charmed affinity in their gaze,
Blended hues from both blue-bell and lily;
And so bright withal, that e'en a lover's glance might
Dim before their lustrous beaming, or be
Dazzled so his mind's eye would flashing see
Across his brain, a thousand stars glitt'ring
Resplendent with heavenly jewelry.

Enrobed in raiment woven plain upon
Her mother's loom, she, by broach or bracelet
Unadorned, looked with more attractive grace
Than if bedecked in fashion's gaudy finery.
Besides, her form was faultless as the Venus
Of Milo, as fair, as tender to the view;
Required no false blandishments to lure
The eye, nor stuffs to give herself proportion:
Her heart was void of all such guile, as truth,
Early to her God, had risen up her soul
To heaven, where her faith in Him reposed.

Thus arrayed in nature's simple beauty,
Daisy Swain, the flower of Shenandoah,
Since taken from her parent bed, was
Mildly nurtured with parental sway,
And prospered in her father's fostering hands,
Full sixteen years unconscious of a thorn;
Unstained by care and sorrow's withering sigh:
Nor had she felt the pangs of fickle love,
That sighs assent, then vanishes from sight.
She was her parents' joy; their dear pledge of
Reciprocal love; their pride of heart, whom
They idolized with fond, indulgent care.





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