Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE VILLAGE MAID, by MARY F. JOHNSON



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THE VILLAGE MAID, by            
First Line: Marked you, by yon thatched farm that skirts the down
Last Line: Its limits in my station's narrow round.
Alternate Author Name(s): Moncrieff, Mary F. Johnson


Marked you, by yon thatched farm that skirts the down --
Though, but for neatness, could she draw your eye --
A maid, in apron white, and russet gown,
Who drove her kine, and passed, low courts'ying, by?
She, in whose grange her cares and pleasures lie;
Whose wishes never, in their loftiest flights,
Beyond the confines of her station fly;
She, in whose taste the wake or feast unites,
Of mortal gladness, the supreme delights --
Who all of fame concenters, in the boast
That hers, of dairies, is esteemed the most;
She, of her sex, my envy most excites.
I would, like hers, my soaring spirit found
Its limits in my station's narrow round.





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