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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=420661" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Changeling ( From The Tent on the Beach )</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">FOR the fairest maid in Hampton<br>They needed not to search,<br>Who saw young Anna favor<br>Come walking into church,--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Or bringing from the meadows,<br>At set of harvest-day,<br>The frolic of the blackbirds,<br>The sweetness of the hay.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now the weariest of all mothers,<br>The saddest two years' bride,<br>She scowls in the face of her husband,<br>And spurns her child aside.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Rake out the red coals, goodman,--<br>For there the child shall lie,<br>Till the black witch comes to fetch her<br>And both up chimney fly.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;It's never my own little daughter,<br>It's never my own,&quot; she said;<br>&quot;The witches have stolen my Anna,<br>And left me an imp instead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Oh, fair and sweet was my baby,<br>Blue eyes, and hair of gold;<br>But this is ugly and wrinkled,<br>Cross, and cunning, and old.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;I hate the touch of her fingers,<br>I hate the feel of her skin;<br>It's not the milk from my bosom,<br>But my blood, that she sucks in.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;My face grows sharp with the torment;<br>Look! my arms are skin and bone!<br>Rake open the red coals, goodman,<br>And the witch shall have her own.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;She'll come when she hears it crying,<br>In the shape of an owl or bat,<br>And she'll bring us our darling Anna<br>In place of her screeching brat.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then the goodman, Ezra Dalton,<br>Laid his hand upon her head:<br>Thy sorrow is great, O woman!<br>I sorrow with thee,&quot; he said.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;The paths to trouble are many<br>And never but one sure way<br>Leads out to the light beyond it:<br>My poor wife, let us pray.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then he said to the great All-Father,<br>&quot;Thy daughter is weak and blind;<br>Let her sight come back, and clothe her<br>Once more in her right mind.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Lead her out of this evil shadow,<br>Out of these fancies wild;<br>Let the holy love of the mother<br>Turn again to her child.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Make her lips like the lips of Mary<br>Kissing her blessed Son;<br>Let her hands, like the hands of Jesus,<br>Rest on her little one.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Comfort the soul of thy handmaid,<br>Open her prison-door,<br>And thine shall be all the glory<br>And praise forevermore.&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then into the face of its mother<br>The baby looked up and smiled;<br>And the cloud of her soul was lifted,<br>And she knew her little child.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">A beam of the slant west sunshine<br>Made the wan face almost fair,<br>Lit the blue eyes' patient wonder<br>And the rings of pale gold hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She kissed it on lip and forehead,<br>She kissed it on cheek and chink<br>And she bared her snow-white bosom<br>To the lips so pale and thin.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Oh, fair on her bridal morning<br>Was the maid who blushed and smiled,<br>But fairer to Ezra Dalton<br>Looked the mother of his child.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">With more than a lover's fondness<br>He stooped to her worn young face,<br>And the nursing child and the mother<br>He folded in one embrace.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Blessed be God!&quot; he murmured.<br>&quot;Blessed be God!&quot; she said;<br>&quot;For I see, who once was blinded,--<br>I live, who once was dead.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">&quot;Now mount and ride, my goodman,<br>As thou lovest thy own soul!<br>Woe's me, if my wicked fancies<br>Be the death of Goody Cole!&quot;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">His horse he saddled and bridled,<br>And into the night rode he,<br>Now through the great black woodland,<br>Now by the white-beached sea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He rode through the silent clearings,<br>He came to the ferry wide,<br>And thrice he called to the boatman<br>Asleep on the other side.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He set his horse to the river,<br>He swam to Newbury town,<br>And he called up Justice Sewall<br>In his nightcap and his gown.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And the grave and worshipful justice<br>(Upon whose soul be peace!)<br>Set his name to the jailer's warrant<br>For Goodwife Cole's release.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Then through the night the hoof-beats<br>Went sounding like a flail;<br>And Goody Cole at cockcrow<br>Came forth from Ipswich jail.</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=John+Greenleaf+Whittier">John Greenleaf Whittier</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=420661" data-title="The Changeling ( From The Tent on the Beach ) de John Greenleaf Whittier" data-description="FOR the fairest maid in Hampton
They needed not to search,
Who saw young Anna favor
Come walking into church,--

Or bringing from the meadows,
At set of harvest-day,
The frolic of the blackbirds,
The sweetness of the hay.

Now the weariest of all ..."></div>
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