Narrative Poems, part 4, Mable Martin etc

箦Project Gutenberg EBook, Mabel Martin and Others, by Whittier From Volume I., The Works of Whittier: Narrative and Legendary Poems #8 in our series by John Greenleaf Whittier
Copyright laws are changing all over the world. Be sure to check the copyright laws for your country before downloading or redistributing this or any other Project Gutenberg eBook.
This header should be the first thing seen when viewing this Project Gutenberg file. Please do not remove it. Do not change or edit the header without written permission.
Please read the "legal small print," and other information about the eBook and Project Gutenberg at the bottom of this file. Included is important information about your specific rights and restrictions in how the file may be used. You can also find out about how to make a donation to Project Gutenberg, and how to get involved.
**Welcome To The World of Free Plain Vanilla Electronic Texts**
**EBooks Readable By Both Humans and By Computers, Since 1971**
*****These EBooks Were Prepared By Thousands of Volunteers*****
Title: Narrative and Legendary Poems: Mabel Martin, A Harvest Idyl
From Volume I., The Works of Whittier
Author: John Greenleaf Whittier
Release Date: Dec, 2005 [EBook #9563]?[Yes, we are more than one year ahead of schedule]?[This file was first posted on October 2, 2003]
Edition: 10
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
? START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK, MABEL MARTIN, ETC. ***
This eBook was produced by David Widger [[email protected] ]
NARRATIVE AND LEGENDARY
POEMS
BY
JOHN GREENLEAF WHITTIER
CONTENTS:
MABEL MARTIN: A HARVEST IDYL
PROEM?I. THE RIVER VALLEY?II. THE HUSKING?III. THE WITCH'S DAUGHTER?IV. THE CHAMPION?V. IN THE SHADOW?VI. THE BETROTHAL
THE PROPHECY OF SAMUEL SEWALL?THE RED RIVER VOYAGEUR?THE PREACHER?THE TRUCE OF PISCATAQUA?MY PLAYMATE?COBBLER KEEZAR'S VISION?AMY WENTWORTH?THE COUNTESS
MABEL MARTIN.
A HARVEST IDYL.
Susanna Martin, an aged woman of Amesbury, Mass., was tried and executed for the alleged crime of witchcraft. Her home was in what is now known as Pleasant Valley on the Merrimac, a little above the old Ferry way, where, tradition says, an attempt was made to assassinate Sir Edmund Andros on his way to Falmouth (afterward Portland) and Pemaquid, which was frustrated by a warning timely given. Goody Martin was the only woman hanged on the north side of the Merrimac during the dreadful delusion. The aged wife of Judge Bradbury who lived on the other side of the Powow River was imprisoned and would have been put to death but for the collapse of the hideous persecution.
The substance of the poem which follows was published under the name of The Witch's Daughter, in The National Era in 1857. In 1875 my publishers desired to issue it with illustrations, and I then enlarged it and otherwise altered it to its present form. The principal addition was in the verses which constitute Part I.
PROEM.?I CALL the old time back: I bring my lay?in tender memory of the summer day?When, where our native river lapsed away,
We dreamed it over, while the thrushes made?Songs of their own, and the great pine-trees laid?On warm noonlights the masses of their shade.
And she was with us, living o'er again?Her life in ours, despite of years and pain,--?The Autumn's brightness after latter rain.
Beautiful in her holy peace as one?Who stands, at evening, when the work is done,?Glorified in the setting of the sun!
Her memory makes our common landscape seem?Fairer than any of which painters dream;?Lights the brown hills and sings in every stream;
For she whose speech was always truth's pure gold?Heard, not unpleased, its simple legends told,?And loved with us the beautiful and old.
I. THE RIVER VALLEY.?Across the level tableland,?A grassy, rarely trodden way,?With thinnest skirt of birchen spray
And stunted growth of cedar, leads?To where you see the dull plain fall?Sheer off, steep-slanted, ploughed by all
The seasons' rainfalls. On its brink?The over-leaning harebells swing,?With roots half bare the pine-trees cling;
And, through the shadow looking west,?You see the wavering river flow?Along a vale, that far below
Holds to the sun, the sheltering hills?And glimmering water-line between,?Broad fields of corn and meadows green,
And fruit-bent orchards grouped around?The low brown roofs and painted eaves,?And chimney-tops half hid in leaves.
No warmer valley hides behind?Yon wind-scourged sand-dunes, cold and bleak;?No fairer river comes to seek
The wave-sung welcome of the sea,?Or mark the northmost border line?Of sun-loved growths of nut and vine.
Here, ground-fast in their native fields,?Untempted by the city's gain,?The quiet farmer folk remain
Who bear the pleasant name of Friends,?And keep their fathers' gentle ways?And simple speech of Bible days;
In whose neat homesteads woman holds?With modest ease her equal place,?And wears upon her tranquil face
The look of one who, merging not?Her self-hood in another's will,?Is