190

195

200

205

210

And, a mirage of the brain,

Flowed her childhood back again.

Flashed the roof the sunshine through,
Into space the walls outgrew;
On the Indian's wigwam mat,
Blossom crowned, again she sat.

Cool she felt the west wind blow,
In her ear the pines sang low,
And, like links from out a chain,
Dropped the years of care and pain.

From the outward toil and din,
From the griefs that gnaw within,

To the freedom of the woods

Called the birds, and winds, and floods.

Well, O painful minister!

Watch thy flock, but blame not her,

If her ear grew sharp to hear

All their voices whispering near.

Blame her not, as to her soul
All the desert's glamour stole,
That a tear for childhood's loss
Dropped upon the Indian's cross.

When, that night, the Book was read,
And she bowed her widowed head,

And a prayer for each loved name
Rose like incense from a flame,

To the listening ear of Heaven,
Lo! another name was given:
"Father, give the Indian rest!
Bless him! for his love has blest !"

J. G. WHITTIER.

QUESTIONS FOR STUDY

The twenty-six introductory lines carry us back from the busy mill town on the river to the same scene before the white man had turned it to his use. What is meant by "mill monsters"? (Line 2.) What is the meaning of lines 4 and 5?

Why unbridged? (Line 11.)

Observe the picturesqueness of Squando's story. He talks as if in a reverie he sees the picture again. What is the meaning of lines 105-107? See Exodus, chapter xiv.

What was Squando's story? Why had he taken the child? What did he ask? Who decided? What is the meaning of the last three stanzas ?

5

10

15

KATHLEEN

Kathleen belongs to the general class of ballad poetry. It is a story so told that it could be sung.

This ballad was originally published in Whittier's prose work Leaves from Margaret Smith's Journal, as the song of a wandering Milesian schoolmaster.

O Norah, lay your basket down,
And rest your weary hand,

And come and hear me sing a song
Of our old Ireland.

There was a lord of Galaway,

A mighty lord was he;

And he did wed a second wife,
A maid of low degree.

But he was old, and she was young,

And so, in evil spite,

She baked the black bread for his kin,

And fed her own with white.

She whipped the maids and starved the kern,'
And drove away the poor;

"Ah, woe is me!" the old lord said,

"I rue my bargain sore!"

This lord he had a daughter fair,
Beloved of old and young,

1 Kern, tramps.

And nightly round the shealing fires 1
Of her the gleeman sung.

2

"As sweet and good is young Kathleen

As Eve before her fall;"

So sang the harper at the fair,

So harped he in the hall.

20

For looking in your face, Kathleen,
Your mother's own I see!"

“Oh, come to me, my daughter dear! Come sit upon my knee,

25

And sent her down to Limerick town,

And to a seaman sold

This daughter of an Irish lord
For ten good pounds in gold.

The lord he smote upon his breast,
And tore his beard so gray;

But he was old, and she was young,
And so she had her way.

Sure that same night the Banshee1 howled

To fright the evil dame,

And fairy folk, who loved Kathleen,

With funeral torches came.

She watched them glancing through the trees,

And glimmering down the hill;

They crept before the dead-vault door,

And there they all stood still!

"Get up, old man! the wake lights' shine!"
"Ye murthering witch," quoth he,
"So I'm rid of your tongue, I little care
If they shine for you or me.”

"Oh, whoso brings my daughter back
My gold and land shall have!"
Oh, then spake up his handsome page,
"No gold nor land I crave!

1 Banshee, a warning spirit. 2 Wake lights, lights for the dead