John Greenleaf Whittier (1807–1892). The Poetical Works in Four Volumes. 1892.
Narrative and Legendary PoemsMabel Martin
III. The Witchs Daughter
B
That river-valley ever heard
From lips of maid or throat of bird;
And let the hay-mow’s shadow fall
Upon the loveliest face of all.
Who knew that none would condescend
To own the Witch-wife’s child a friend.
Since curious thousands thronged to see
Her mother at the gallows-tree;
That faltered on the fatal stairs,
And wan lip trembling with its prayers!
Or, when they saw the mother die,
Dreamed of the daughter’s agony.
As men and Christians justified:
God willed it, and the wretch had died!
Forgive our faith in cruel lies,—
Forgive the blindness that denies!
For the all-perfect love Thou art,
Some grim creation of his heart.
Our bloody altars; let us see
Thyself in Thy humanity!
Crept to her desolate hearth-stone,
And wrestled with her fate alone;
The phantoms of disordered sense,
The awful doubts of Providence!
And dreary fell the winter nights
When, one by one, the neighboring lights
And all the phantom-peopled dark
Closed round her hearth-fire’s dying spark.
And sad the uncompanioned eves,
And sadder sunset-tinted leaves,
She scarcely felt the soft caress,
The beauty died of loneliness!
And, when she sought the house of prayer,
Her mother’s curse pursued her there.
She saw the horseshoe’s curvëd charm,
To guard against her mother’s harm:
Who daily, by the old arm-chair,
Folded her withered hands in prayer;—
Her worn old Bible o’er and o’er,
When her dim eyes could read no more!
Her faith, and trusted that her way,
So dark, would somewhere meet the day.
Day after day, with no relief:
Small leisure have the poor for grief.