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Excerpt from Huldah a Daughter of the Revolution: And Other Poems of American Patriotism
A Hundred Years Ago.
Low, subtle whispers of summer-tide -
Though edgings of snow still clung beside
The jagged rocks, and with half-dazed look -
Like a child just waked - lay the sleepy brods!
Perchance 'twas the sunshine's lengthened ray,
The lowing cattle, the haze that lay
On the Milton hills, or that strange spell
In the robin's note - I cannot tell -
But Huldah, leaving her spinning, knew
And felt the restlessness, as she threw
The bars of the lattice open! Cool and sweet,
As though from some pine wood's deep retreat -
With a slow, coy tread, the fresh winds crept
Through the sliding bars; on the hearth, wing-swept,
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