A Library of Poetry and Song: Being Choice Selections from the Best Poets

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Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring,

Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot's stirring;

Sprightly, and lightly, and airily ringing, Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.

"What's that noise that I hear at the window, I wonder?"

"T is the little birds chirping the holly-bush under."

"What makes you be shoving and moving your stool on,

And singing all wrong that old song of 'The Coolun'?"

There's a form at the casement, the form of her true-love,

And he whispers, with face bent, "I'm waiting for you, love;

Get up on the stool, through the lattice step lightly,

We'll rove in the grove while the moon's shining brightly "

Merrily, cheerily, noisily whirring,

Swings the wheel, spins the reel, while the foot's stirring;

Sprightly, and lightly, and airily ringing, Thrills the sweet voice of the young maiden singing.

The maid shakes her head, on her lip lays her fingers,

Steals up from her seat, longs to go, and yet lingers;

A frightened glance turns to her drowsy grandmother,

Puts one foot on the stool, spins the wheel with the other.

Lazily, easily, swings now the wheel round ;
Slowly and lowly is heard now the reel's sound;
Noiseless and light to the lattice above her
The maid steps, then leaps to the arms of her
lover.

Slower and slower- and slower the wheel swings;

Lower- and lower- and lower the reel rings; Ere the reel and the wheel stop their ringing and moving,

Through the grove the young lovers by moonlight are roving.

JOHN FRANCIS WALLER.

OTHELLO'S DEFENCE.

It was my hint to speak, - such was the process;
And of the Cannibals that each other eat,

OTHELLO. Most potent, grave, and reverend The Anthropophagi, and men whose heads

signiors,

My very noble and approved good masters, –
That I have ta'en away this old man's daughter,
It is most true; true, I have married her:
The very head and front of my offending

Do grow beneath their shoulders. This to hear,
Would Desdemona seriously incline:

But still the house affairs would draw her thence;
Which ever as she could with haste despatch,
She'd come again, and with a greedy ear

Hath this extent, no more. Rude am I in my Devour up my discourse. Which I observing, speech,

And little blessed with the soft phrase of peace;
For since these arms of mine had seven years' pith,
Till now, some nine moons wasted, they have used
Their dearest action in the tented field;
And little of this great world can I speak,
More than pertains to feats of broil and battle;
And therefore little shall I grace my cause,
In speaking for myself. Yet, by your gracious
patience,

I will a round unvarnished tale deliver

Took once a pliant hour; and found good means
To draw from her a prayer of earnest heart,
That I would all my pilgrimage dilate,
Whereof by parcels she had something heard,
But not intentively: I did consent;
And often did beguile her of her tears,
When I did speak of some distressful stroke,
That my youth suffered. My story being done,
She gave me for my pains a world of sighs :
She swore, in faith 't was strange, 't was pass-
ing strange;

Of my whole course of love; what drugs, what 'T was pitiful, 't was wondrous pitiful :

charms,

What conjuration, and what mighty magic,
For such proceeding I am charged withal,
I won his daughter.

BRABANTIO. A maiden never bold;

Of spirit so still and quiet, that her motion
Blushed at herself; and she- in spite of nature,
Of years, of country, credit, everything,

To fall in love with what she feared to look on!
It is a judgment maimed, and most imperfect,
That will confess perfection so could err
Against all rules of nature; and must be driven
To find out practices of cunning hell,

Why this should be. I therefore vouch again,
That with some mixtures powerful o'er the blood,
Or with some dram conjured to this effect,
He wrought upon her.

Отн.

I'll present

How I did thrive in this fair lady's love,
And she in mine.

Her father loved me; oft invited me ;
Still questioned me the story of my life,
From year to year; -the battles, sieges, fortunes,
That I have passed.

I ran it through, even from my boyish days,
To th' very moment that he bade me tell it :
Wherein I spake of most disastrous chances,
Of moving accidents by flood and field;
Of hair-breadth 'scapes i' the imminent deadly
breach;

Of being taken by the insolent foe,
And sold to slavery; of my redemption thence,
And portance in my travel's history:
Wherein of antres vast, and deserts idle,
Rough quarries, rocks, and hills whose heads
touch heaven,

ROMEO. He jests at scars that never felt a Take all myself.

wound.

(JULIET appears above, at a window.) But, soft! what light through yonder window

breaks?

It is the east, and Juliet is the sun!Arise, fair sun, and kill the envious moon, Who is already sick and pale with grief,

ROM.

I take thee at thy word: Call me but love, and I'll be new baptized; Henceforth I never will be Romeo.

JUL. What man art thou, that, thus bescreened in night,

So stumblest on my counsel?
ROM.

By a name

That thou, her maid, art far more fair than she: I know not how to tell thee who I am :

Be not her maid, since she is envious; Her vestal livery is but sick and green,

And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.

It is my lady; O, it is my love!

O that she knew she were !

My name, dear saint, is hateful to myself,
Because it is an enemy to thee:

Had I it written, I would tear the word.

JUL. My ears have not yet drunk a hundred words

She speaks, yet she says nothing: What of Of that tongue's utterance, yet I know the sound:

I am too bold, 't is not to me she speaks:
Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven,
Having some business, do entreat her eyes
To twinkle in their spheres till they return.
What if her eyes were there, they in her head?
The brightness of her cheek would shame those
stars,

As daylight doth a lamp; her eyes in heaven
Would through the airy region stream so bright,
That birds would sing, and think it were not
night.

See, how she leans her cheek upon her hand!
O, that I were a glove upon that hand,
That I might touch that cheek !

JULIET.

ROM.

Ah me!

She speaks: O, speak again, bright angel! for thou art As is glorious to this night, being o'er my head, As is a wingéd messenger of heaven Unto the white-upturnéd wondering eyes Of mortals, that fall back to gaze on him, When he bestrides the lazy-pacing clouds, And sails upon the bosom of the air.

JUL. O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo?

Deny thy father, and refuse thy name;

Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love,

And I'll no longer be a Capulet.

For stony limits cannot hold love out :
And what love can do, that dares love attempt ;
Therefore thy kinsmen are no let to me.

JUL. If they do see thee, they will murder thee. ROM. Alack! there lies more peril in thine eye, Than twenty of their swords; look thou but sweet,

And I am proof against their enmity.

JUL. I would not for the world they saw thee here.

ROM. I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight;

And, but thou love me, let them find me here:
My life were better ended by their hate,
Than death proroguéd, wanting of thy love.
JUL. By whose direction found'st thou out
this place?

ROм. By love, who first did prompt me to inquire:

He lent me counsel, and I lent him eyes.

I am no pilot; yet wert thou as far

ROM. [Aside.] Shall I hear more, or shall I As that vast shore washed with the farthest sea,

speak at this?

JUL. T is but thy name, that is my enemy;· Thou art thyself though, not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, Nor arm, nor face, nor any other part Belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? that which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet; So Romeo would, were he not Romeo called,

I would adventure for such merchandise.
JUL. Thou know'st the mask of night is on my

face;

Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek, For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night. Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke; but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know, thou wilt say, Ay; And I will take thy word; yet, if thou swear'st,

Thou mayst prove false: at lover's perjuries,
They say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo,
If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully:
Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won,
I'll frown and be perverse, and say thee nay,
So thou wilt woo; but, else, not for the world.
In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond ;
And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light:
But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true
Than those that have more cunning to be strange.
I should have been more strange, I must confess,
But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware,
My true love 's passion: therefore, pardon me;
And not impute this yielding to light love,
Which the dark night hath so discoveréd.

ROм. Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear, That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops JUL. O, swear not by the moon, th' inconstant

JUL. Well, do not swear: although I joy in thee, I have no joy of this contract to-night: It is too rash, too unadvised, too sudden; Too like the lightning, which doth cease to be, Ere one can say, It lightens. Sweet, good night! This bud of love, by summer's ripening breath, May prove a beauteous flower when next we meet. Good night, good night! as sweet repose and rest Come to thy heart as that within my breast! ROM. O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied? JUL. What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?

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thy light.

Love goes toward love, as school-boys from their books;

But love from love, toward school with heavy looks. [Retiring.]

(Re-enter JULIET, above.)

JUL. Hist! Romeo, hist!-O, for a falconer's voice,

To lure this tercel-gentle back again!
Bondage is hoarse, and may not speak aloud;
Else would I tear the cave where echo lies,
And make her airy tongue more hoarse than mine
With repetition of my Romeo's name.

ROM. It is my soul, that calls upon my name :
How silver-sweet sound lovers' tongues by night,
Like softest music to attending ears!
JUL. Romeo!
ROM.
JUL.

My dear!

At what o'clock to-morrow

ROM. Th' exchange of thy love's faithful vow Shall I send to thee?
for mine.
ROM.
At the hour of nine.
JUL. I will not fail: 't is twenty years till then.
I have forgot why I did call thee back.

JUL. I gave thee mine before thou didst re

quest it:

ROM. Let me stand here till thou remember it. JUL. Ishall forget, to have thee still stand there, Remembering how I love thy company.

ROM. And I'll still stay, to have thee still forget, Forgetting any other home but this.

JUL. 'Tis almost morning; I would have thee gone:

And yet no farther than a wanton's bird;
Who lets it hop a little from her hand,
Like a poor prisoner in his twisted gyves,
And with a silk thread plucks it back again,
So loving-jealous of his liberty.

ROM. I would I were thy bird.
JUL.
Sweet, so would I :
Yet I should kill thee with much cherishing.

GOD makes sech nights, all white an' still
Fur 'z you can look or listen.
Moonshine an' snow on field an' hill,
All silence an' all glisten.

Zekle crep' up quite unbeknown
An' peeked in thru' the winder,
An' there sot Huldy all alone,
'Ith no one nigh to hender.

A fireplace filled the room's one side
With half a cord o' wood in
There warn't no stoves (tell comfort died)
To bake ye to a puddin'.

The wa'nut logs shot sparkles out

Towards the pootiest, bless her,

An' leetle flames danced all about
The chiny on the dresser.

Agin the chimbley crook-necks hung,
An' in amongst 'em rusted

The ole queen's arm thet gran'ther Young
Fetched back from Concord busted.

The very room, coz she was in,

Seemed warm from floor to ceilin',
An' she looked full ez rosy agin
Ez the apples she was peelin'.

'T was kin' o' kingdom-come to look
On sech a blessed cretur,
A dogrose blushin' to a brook
Ain't modester nor sweeter.

He was six foot o' man, A 1,

Clean grit an' human natur'; None could n't quicker pitch a ton

Nor dror a furrer straighter.

He'd sparked it with full twenty gals,
Hed squired 'em, danced 'em, druv 'em,
Fust this one, an' then thet, by spells --
All is, he could n't love 'em.

But long o' her his veins 'ould run
All crinkly like curled maple,

The side she breshed felt full o' sun
Ez a south slope in Ap'il.

She thought no v'ice hed sech a swing
Ez hisn in the choir;

My! when he made Ole Hundred ring,
She knowed the Lord was nigher.

An' she'd blush scarlit, right in prayer,
When her new meetin'-bunnet
Felt somehow thru' its crown a pair
O' blue eyes sot upon it.

Thet night, I tell ye, she looked some !
She seemed to 've gut a new soul,
For she felt sartin-sure he'd come,

Down to her very shoe-sole.

She heered a foot, an' knowed it tu,
A-raspin' on the scraper,
All ways to once her feelin's flew
Like sparks in burnt-up paper.

He kin' o' l'itered on the mat,
Some doubtfle o' the sekle,
His heart kep' goin' pity-pat,
But hern went pity Zekle.

An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk

Ez though she wished him furder, An' on her apples kep' to work, Parin' away like murder.

"You want to see my Pa, I s'pose?"

“Wal... no... I come dasignin'". "To see my Ma? She's sprinklin' clo'es Agin to-morrer's i'nin'."

To say why gals acts so or so,

Or don't, 'ould be presumin': Mebby to mean yes an' say no

Comes nateral to women.

He stood a spell on one foot fust,

Then stood a spell on t' other, An' on which one he felt the wust

He could n't ha' told ye nuther.

Says he, "I'd better call agin";

Says she, "Think likely, Mister"; Thet last word pricked him like a pin, An'... Wal, he up an' kist her.

When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips,
Huldy sot pale ez ashes,
All kin' o' smily roun' the lips

An' teary roun' the lashes.

For she was jes' the quiet kind
Whose naturs never vary,
Like streams that keep a summer mind
Snowhid in Jenooary.

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