Classic Poem

PART FIRST

In her garden, where the river
 Round the Isle of Tinicum
Swings with stately movement ever,
 And the proud world's voice is dumb,
Like some spirit of the spot,
Kneels the Lady Armagot.

Still and cold, in pale moonlight,
 Round about her statues stand;
But as still her head so bright,
 And as cold her lily-hand;
Strange thy heart is not more gay,
Lady, on thy wedding-day!

Daughter of the Governor,
 Of the gallant Printz, is she;
Who in many a godly war
 Fought for Sweden, o'er the sea;
Here, to rule this gentle land,
Came he by his queen's command.

On the hill, above the river,
 Stands the stately hall he made;
Round it lights of revel quiver
 On the garden's leafy shade;
In it, where the gay lamps shine,
Smiles the bridegroom o'er his wine.

Pale John Pappegoya's face.
 In his life at camp and court,
In his strife for wealth and place,
 He has burnt youth's candle short;
But the yellow gold he sought
Now a bonny bride hath brought.

PART SECOND

Ten the years of mirth and tears
 Which across the world have flown;
To the castles of his peers,
 To the palace and the throne,
To his Sweden's sombre tints,
Has returned the mighty Printz.

Now John Pappegoya's hand,
 From the Isle of Tinicum,
Rules New-Sweden's fertile land;
 But each day the merry hum
Of the court is in his ear;
Little pleasure finds he here.
Faded is the rosy cheek

 Of the Lady Armagot;
And her blue eyes ever seek
 Resting-place where he is not;
In his breast love's flame burns dim,
Dead was aye her heart for him.

In the spring-time of the year,
 Down the river, out the bay,
For fair Stockholm's wit and cheer
 Lightly will they sail away:
Gay his blood runs at the thought;
She, soul-sickening, cares for naught.

What to her the court, the dance?
 Dearer far the wild pine's sighing
Once, in girlhood, would this chance
 Have set golden fancies flying:
Now the ashes of her heart
Choke the roses that would start.

PART THIRD

In her chamber, stern and still,
 Stands she, looking o'er the river;
'Tis to-morrow's winds will fill
 Those white sails which yonder quiver;
'Tis to-morrow's dawn so dim
Which will see her hence with him.

Sounds a step her spirit knows;
 Comes her husband in the door;
From her face all color goes
 That has softened it before;
With a voice whose accent seeks
Naught but bitterness, she speaks.

“On the morrow, when thou sailest,
 Wherefore need I go with thee?
Long my eyes have seen thou failest
 In thy promised love for me;
But how can these lips reprove thee?
Well thou know'st I ne'er did love thee

“In this house, which to my father
 Sweden gave, for him and his,
Let me dwell, forever, rather
 Than thy home, what'er it is;
True my life shall be to thee;
True thou needst not be to me.”

Somewhat paler with surprise
 Does John Pappegoya grow;
Then, with cold light in his eyes,
 Bows gallantly, and speaks low;
“Madam, I would hold you not;
Farewell, Lady Armagot!”

PART FOURTH

Yellow wave the autumn willows
 Round the Isle of Tinicum;
Save the river's little billows,
 Plashing ever, all is dumb;
Rank has grown the garden's sod
Since the mighty Printz here trod.

Never, now, within his hall,
 Runs the wine and rings the laughter;
Seems the ivy like a pall,
 Covering wall and covering rafter;
Only, in the silent spot,
Dwells the Lady Armagot.

Years have come, and years have gone,
 Since adown the turbid river,
On that misty April dawn,
 Sailed John Pappegoya; never
Knows she, now, a husband's claim;
Armgart Printz once more her name.

In the little church where meet
 Rich and poor, from far and near,
For that sacred service sweet
 To the pious tongue and ear,
Kneels she, with her head so bright
Bowed beneath two cherubs' sight.

Gentle she to one and all,
 Though for friends she seems to care not,
In her home no children call,
 Of her husband ask they dare not,—
They who, in her faded cheek,
Read some grief she will not speak.

Comes a time in winter dreary
 When she sickens for the spring;
Comes a night when home her weary
 Spirit heavenly angels bring;
May the God who gives us rest
Fold her closely to his breast!