The Mistress of the Manse

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Holland
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Title: The Mistress of the Manse
Author: J. G. Holland
Release Date: July 29, 2004 [EBook #13052]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
0. START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE
MISTRESS OF THE MANSE ***
Produced by Al Haines
THE MISTRESS OF THE MANSE
BY
J. G. HOLLAND
NEW YORK
SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO
1874
Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1874, by
SCRIBNER, ARMSTRONG & CO.,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress at Washington.

JOHN V. TROW & SON,
PRINTERS AND BOOKBINDERS,
205-213 East 12th St.,
NEW YORK.
CONTENTS.
PRELUDE
LOVE'S EXPERIMENTS
LOVE'S
PHILOSOPHIES
LOVE'S CONSUMMATIONS
LOVE'S EXPERIMENTS.
I.
A fluttering bevy left the gate
With hurried steps, and sped away;

And then a coach with drooping freight,
Wrapped in its film of dusty
gray,
Stopped; and the pastor and his mate
Stepped forth, and passed the waiting door,
And closed it on the
gazing street.
"Oh Philip!" She could say no more.
"Oh Mildred!
You're at home, my sweet,--
The old life closed: the new before!"
"Dinah, the mistress!" And the maid,
Grown motherly with
household care
And loving service, and arrayed
In homely neatness,
took the pair
Of small gloved hands held out, and paid
Her low obeisance; then--"this way!"
And when she brought her forth
at last,
To him who grudged the long delay,
He found the soil of
travel cast,
And Mildred fresh and fair as May.
II
"This is our little Manse," he said.
"Now look with both your curious
eyes
Around, above and overhead,
And seeing all things, realize


That they are ours, and we are wed!
"Walk through these freshly garnished rooms--
These halls of oak
and tinted pearl--
And mark the cups of clover-blooms,
Cut fresh,
to greet the stranger-girl,
By those whose kindliness illumes
The house beyond the grace of flowers!
They greet you, mantled by
my name,
And rain their tenderness in showers,--
Responding to the
double claim
Of love no longer mine, but ours.
"This is our parlor, plain and sweet:
Your hands shall make it half
divine.
That wide, old-fashioned window-seat
Beneath your touch
shall grow a shrine;
And every nooklet and retreat,
And every barren ledge and shelf,
Shall wear a charm beyond the
boon
Of treasure-bearing drift, or delf,
Or dreams that flutter from
the moon;
For it shall blossom with yourself.
"This is my study: here, alone,
Prayerful to Him whom I adore,
And
gathering speech to make him known,
Your far, quick footsteps on
the floor,
Your breezy robe, your cheerful tone,
As through our pretty home you speed
The busy ministries of life,

Will stir me swifter than my creed,
And be more musical, dear wife,

Than sweep of harp, or pipe of reed.
"Here is our fairy banquet hall!
See how it opens to the East,
And
looks through elms! The board is small,
But what it bears shall be a
feast
At morn, and noon, and evenfall.
"There will you sit in girlish grace,
And catch, the sunrise in your hair;

And looking at you, from my place,
I shall behold more sweet and
fair
The morning in your smiling face.
"And guests shall come, and guests shall go,
And break with us our

daily bread;
And sometime--sometime--do you know?
I hope
that--dearest, lift your head;
And let me speak it, soft and low!
"The grass is sweeter than the ground:
Can love be better than its
flowers?
Oh sometime--sometime--in the round
Of coming years,
this board of ours
I hope may blossom and abound
With shining curls, and laughing eyes,
And pleasant jests and merry
words,
And questions full of life's surprise,
And light and music,
when the birds
Have left us to our gloomy skies.
"Now mount with me the old oak stair!
This is your chamber--pink
and blue!
They asked the color of your hair,
And draped and fitted
all for you,
My fine brunette, with tasteful care.
"The linen is as white as snow;
The flowers are set on every sconce;

And e'en the cushioned pin-heads show
Your formal "welcome,"
for the nonce,
To the sweet home their hands bestow.
"Declining to the river's marge,
See, from this window, how the turf

Runs with a thousand flowers in charge
To meet the silver feet of
surf
That fly from every passing barge!
"Along that reach of liquid light
Flies Commerce with her countless
keels;
There the chained Titan in his might
Turns slowly round the
groaning wheels
That drag her burdens, day and night.
"And now the red sun flings his kiss
Across its waves from
finger-tips
That pause, and grudgingly dismiss
The one he loves to
closer lips,
And Moonlight's quiet hour of bliss.
"And here comes Dinah with the steam
Of evening cups and evening
food,
And coal-red berries quenched with cream,
And ministry of
homely good
That proves, my dear, we do not dream."

III.
He heard the long-drawn organ-peal
Within his chapel call to prayer;

And, answering with ready zeal,
He breathed o'er Mildred's weary