POETRY.
THE MILKWOMAN.
Sun was tall and strong, and she walk'd along With a firm substantial tread, Like one who knows that wherever she goes She is earning her daily bread.
Her frock was print, and there was not a hint In the whole of her simple dress Of that milliner's touch which adds so much To a lady's comeliness.
Yet she is aware that her face is fair; But she also understands That the best of her charms are her stout red arms And her strong hard-working hands.
"It's them," says she, " as has work'd for me, Wherever my work have been ; And as for my face, why it's no disgrace, For I reckon it's always clean.
" Well, there's Jack, I know, he bothers me sof–.
But what do I care for him ?
I'll ha' nothing to say to a lad that's gay, So long as I've life and limb I "Such chaps may do for a wench like you, As is fond of a easy life ; But if I get a man, I shall do what I can For to make him a working wife."
She smiled as she spoke, and she settled her yoke On the back of her shoulders broad, And she stoop'd to her pails by the area rails, And harness'd herself to her load.
Then she went on her beat through the bustling street With a step like a martial man's ; A step that suits her iron-shod boots,
And the weight of her chinking cans.
For her cans and she had the bulk of thiee, And deftly as she might steer, 'Twas the silent might of her strength and her height That kept the pathway clear.
There were many who eyed her stately stride, As she moved through the yielding crowd, With her hands on her hips and a smile on her lips, And a look both calm and proud.
But none, or few, of the gazers knew The worth of her humble trade ; And beauty alone may never atone For the lot of a milkman's maid.
They could not see what was clear to me—. That the loftiest lady there Might envy the part in Dame Nature's heart Which is owned by Kitty Clare. A. MuNBT.
Previous page
