Close Close Previous Poem Next Poem Follow Us on Twitter! Poem of the Day Award Follow Us on Facebook! Follow Us on Twitter! Follow Us on Pinterest! Follow Our Youtube Channel! Follow Our RSS Feed! envelope star quill

A Quaker Maid

by James B. Kenyon

She sits beneath the trellised vine
Beside the open door;
Warm arabesques of sunlight shine
Along the checkered floor.

Her busy needles wink and glance
As still her task she plies;
By bordered walks the midges dance;
Above, the swallow flies.

Her face is calm; her eyes are meek;
About her smooth young throat,
And lightly blown o'er either cheek,
The silken tendrils float.

Beneath the snow-white kerchief spread
Across her placid breast,
Unvexed by change or darkling dread,
Her spirit lies at rest.

Peace is her world; no thought of ill,
Nor breath of sordid strife,
E'er taints the pure desires that fill
Her cool hushed round of life.

Afar the city roars; there sweeps
The long white way that gleams
For other feet; she sits and keeps
Alone her quiet dreams.

Follow Us On: