Classic Poem

" MOTHER , see my cottage bonnet!
Never was it bleached so white;
I have put fresh ribbons on it,
And three roses, for to-night.
Think you, mother, they will fade
For a half hour in the shade? "
'T was the coaxing Adelaide
Thus who said, the bonnet tying
Close about her golden hair.
Waiting not for a replying
To her question, she must wear
The new ribbons and the flowers —
None would see them — 't was her mood;
On the hill-side near the wood
She would be the next two hours.
" If you want me, mother dear —
Call, I shall be sure to hear. "
So said joyous Adelaide —
Pretty, self-deceiving maid.

Many times before that day
She had gone the self-same way,
Singing, skipping here and there,
Where a daisy bloomed, or where,
Patches of bright grasses lay.
She would pout if you should say
Sweeter music twilight cheers
Than the birds make, and with tears
Tell you, it is not the truth
She has ever seen a youth
Driving cattle any night
Down a meadow full in sight —
Down a meadow thick with flowers
Driving cattle, brown and white,
Slowly towards a shallow well,
Hedged with lilies all around,
Brighter than the speckled shell
Of the " sweet beast " Hermes found.

What deceitful hearts are ours!
For 't is true, say all she can,
That the farm-boy, Corolan,
Drives at night his cattle so —
Silent sometimes drives them, slow —
Sometimes trilling songs of glee —
Treading very near the shade
Where, unconscious, it may be,
Sits the blushing Adelaide.
The huge leader of the flock
Often with a golden strand,
Made of oat straw, gaily bound
His black forehead round and round,
Close to Corolan doth walk,
Gently guided by his hand.

Haply 't is but for the pleasing
Of his own eyes he doth make
The gold cordage, and for sake
Of the green and flowery dells
His white oxen wear the bells,
And the song may be for easing
A young heart that loves the flowing
Of soft sounds in solitudes,
And the lonesome echoes going
Like lost poets through the woods.
Or all haply, happens so —
For the maiden says with tears,
" On the white necks of the steers
Silver bells make music low
When the pastured cattle go
Toward the spring — but not a sound
Sweeter, ever echoes round " —
So it cannot be she hears!
And if thither Corolan strays,
She has seen him not, she says;
And if eyes so bold and bright
As you hint of, pierced the shade,
She would not be night by night
On the hill side.
Adelaide
Surely would not so declare
If she saw young Corolan there.
So we will not wrong the maid
Guessing why the cottage bonnet
Had fresh flowers and ribbons on it.
Or for what the hill side shade
Pleased her — beauteous Adelaide.