Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/205

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POEMS.
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The dear ones in the cottage, while so long,Hour after hour, I stay without? I knowThat they will seek me far and near, and weepTo find me not. How could I, wickedlyNeglect the charge they gave me?" As she spoke,The hot tears started to her eyes; she kneltIn the mid path. "Father! forgive this sin;Forgive myself I cannot"—thus she prayed,And rose and hastened onward. When, at last,They reached the outer air, the clear north breathedA bitter cold, from which she shrank with dread,But the snow-maiden bounded as she feltThe cutting blast, and uttered shouts of joy,And skipped, with boundless glee, from drift to drift,And danced round Eva, as she labored upThe mounds of snow, "Ah me! I feel my eyes
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