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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413302" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part I.</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Max plac'd a ring on little Katie's hand,<br>A silver ring that he had beaten out<br>From that same sacred coin--first well-priz'd wage<br>For boyish labour, kept thro' many years.<br>'See, Kate,' he said, 'I had no skill to shape<br>Two hearts fast bound together, so I grav'd<br>Just K. and M., for Katie and for Max.'<br>'But, look; you've run the lines in such a way,<br>That M. is part of K., and K. of M.,'<br>Said Katie, smiling. 'Did you mean it thus?<br>I like it better than the double hearts.'<br>'Well, well,' he said, 'but womankind is wise!<br>Yet tell me, dear, will such a prophecy<br>Not hurt you sometimes, when I am away?<br>Will you not seek, keen ey'd, for some small break<br>In those deep lines, to part the K. and M.<br>For you? Nay, Kate, look down amid the globes<br>Of those large lilies that our light canoe<br>Divides, and see within the polish'd pool<br>That small, rose face of yours,--so dear, so fair,--<br>A seed of love to cleave into a rock,<br>And bourgeon thence until the granite splits<br>Before its subtle strength. I being gone--<br>Poor soldier of the axe--to bloodless fields,<br>(Inglorious battles, whether lost or won).<br>That sixteen summer'd heart of yours may say:<br>''I but was budding, and I did not know<br>My core was crimson and my perfume sweet;<br>I did not know how choice a thing I am;<br>I had not seen the sun, and blind I sway'd<br>To a strong wind, and thought because I sway'd,<br>'Twas to the wooer of the perfect rose--<br>That strong, wild wind has swept beyond my ken--<br>The breeze I love sighs thro' my ruddy leaves.'<br>'O, words!' said Katie, blushing, 'only words!<br>You build them up that I may push them down;<br>If hearts are flow'rs, I know that flow'rs can root--<br>'Bud, blossom, die--all in the same lov'd soil;<br>They do so in my garden. I have made<br>Your heart my garden. If I am a bud<br>And only feel unfoldment--feebly stir<br>Within my leaves: wait patiently; some June,<br>I'll blush a full-blown rose, and queen it, dear,<br>In your lov'd garden. Tho' I be a bud,<br>My roots strike deep, and torn from that dear soil<br>Would shriek like mandrakes--those witch things I read<br>Of in your quaint old books. Are you content?'<br>'Yes--crescent-wise--but not to round, full moon.<br>Look at yon hill that rounds so gently up<br>From the wide lake; a lover king it looks,<br>In cloth of gold, gone from his bride and queen;<br>And yet delayed, because her silver locks<br>Catch in his gilded fringes; his shoulders sweep<br>Into blue distance, and his gracious crest,<br>Not held too high, is plum'd with maple groves;--<br>One of your father's farms. A mighty man,<br>Self-hewn from rock, remaining rock through all.'<br>'He loves me, Max,' said Katie: 'Yes, I know--<br>A rock is cup to many a crystal spring.<br>Well, he is rich; those misty, peak-roof'd barns--<br>Leviathans rising from red seas of grain--<br>Are full of ingots, shaped like grains of wheat.<br>His flocks have golden fleeces, and his herds<br>Have monarchs worshipful, as was the calf<br>Aaron call'd from the furnace; and his ploughs,<br>Like Genii chained, snort o'er his mighty fields.<br>He has a voice in Council and in Church--'<br>'He work'd for all,' said Katie, somewhat pain'd.<br>'Aye, so, dear love, he did; I heard him tell<br>How the first field upon his farm was ploughed.<br>He and his brother Reuben, stalwart lads,<br>Yok'd themselves, side by side, to the new plough;<br>Their weaker father, in the grey of life<br>(But rather the wan age of poverty<br>Than many winters), in large, gnarl'd hands<br>The plunging handles held; with mighty strains<br>They drew the ripping beak through knotted sod,<br>Thro' tortuous lanes of blacken'd, smoking stumps;<br>And past great flaming brush heaps, sending out<br>Fierce summers, beating on their swollen brows.<br>O, such a battle! had we heard of serfs<br>Driven to like hot conflict with the soil,<br>Armies had march'd and navies swiftly sail'd<br>To burst their gyves. But here's the little point--<br>The polish'd di'mond pivot on which spins<br>The wheel of Difference--they OWN'D the rugged soil,<br>And fought for love--dear love of wealth and pow'r,<br>And honest ease and fair esteem of men;<br>One's blood heats at it!' 'Yet you said such fields<br>Were all inglorious,' Katie, wondering, said.<br>'Inglorious? yes; they make no promises<br>Of Star or Garter, or the thundering guns<br>That tell the earth her warriors are dead.<br>Inglorious! aye, the battle done and won<br>Means not--a throne propp'd up with bleaching bones;<br>A country sav'd with smoking seas of blood;<br>A flag torn from the foe with wounds and death;<br>Or Commerce, with her housewife foot upon<br>Colossal bridge of slaughter'd savages,<br>The Cross laid on her brawny shoulder, and<br>In one sly, mighty hand her reeking sword;<br>And in the other all the woven cheats<br>From her dishonest looms. Nay, none of these.<br>It means--four walls, perhaps a lowly roof;<br>Kine in a peaceful posture; modest fields;<br>A man and woman standing hand in hand<br>In hale old age, who, looking o'er the land,<br>Say: 'Thank the Lord, it all is mine and thine!'<br>It means, to such thew'd warriors of the Axe<br>As your own father;--well, it means, sweet Kate,<br>Outspreading circles of increasing gold,<br>A name of weight; one little daughter heir.<br>Who must not wed the owner of an axe,<br>Who owns naught else but some dim, dusky woods<br>In a far land; two arms indifferent strong--'<br>'And Katie's heart,' said Katie, with a smile;<br>For yet she stood on that smooth, violet plain,<br>Where nothing shades the sun; nor quite believed<br>Those blue peaks closing in were aught but mist<br>Which the gay sun could scatter with a glance.<br>For Max, he late had touch'd their stones, but yet<br>He saw them seam'd with gold and precious ores,<br>Rich with hill flow'rs and musical with rills.<br>'Or that same bud that will be Katie's heart,<br>Against the time your deep, dim woods are clear'd,<br>And I have wrought my father to relent.'<br>'How will you move him, sweet? why, he will rage<br>And fume and anger, striding o'er his fields,<br>Until the last bought king of herds lets down<br>His lordly front, and rumbling thunder from<br>His polish'd chest, returns his chiding tones.<br>How will you move him, Katie, tell me how?'<br>'I'll kiss him and keep still--that way is sure,'<br>Said Katie, smiling. 'I have often tried.'<br>'God speed the kiss,' said Max, and Katie sigh'd,<br>With pray'rful palms close seal'd, 'God speed the axe!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O, light canoe, where dost thou glide?<br>Below thee gleams no silver'd tide,<br>But concave heaven's chiefest pride.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Above thee burns Eve's rosy bar;<br>Below thee throbs her darling star;<br>Deep 'neath thy keel her round worlds are!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Above, below, O sweet surprise,<br>To gladden happy lover's eyes;<br>No earth, no wave--all jewell'd sides!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">* * * * *</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isabella+Valancy+Crawford">Isabella Valancy Crawford</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413302" data-title="Malcolm's Katie: A Love Story - Part I. de Isabella Valancy Crawford" data-description="Max plac'd a ring on little Katie's hand,
A silver ring that he had beaten out
From that same sacred coin--first well-priz'd wage
For boyish labour, kept thro' many years.
'See, Kate,' he said, 'I had no skill to shape
Two hearts fast bound togeth..."></div>
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