Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
In School-Days
By John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892)S
A ragged beggar sunning;
Around it still the sumachs grow,
And blackberry vines are running.
Deep scarred by raps official;
The warping floor, the battered seats,
The jack-knife’s carved initial;
Its door’s worn sill, betraying
The feet that, creeping slow to school,
Went storming out to playing!
Shone over it at setting;
Lit up its western window panes,
And low eaves’ icy fretting.
And brown eyes full of grieving,
Of one who still her steps delayed
When all the school were leaving.
Her childish favor singled;
His cap pulled low upon a face
Where pride and shame were mingled.
To right and left, he lingered;—
As restlessly her tiny hands
The blue-checked apron fingered.
The soft hand’s light caressing,
And heard the tremble of her voice,
As if a fault confessing.
I hate to go above you,
“Because,”—the brown eyes lower fell,—
“Because, you see, I love you!”
That sweet child-face is showing.
Dear girl! the grasses on her grave
Have forty years been growing!
How few who pass above him
Lament their triumph and his loss,
Like her,—because they love him.