Classic Poem

POOR lone Hannah,
Sitting at the window, binding shoes:
Faded, wrinkled,
Sitting, stitching, in a mournful muse.
— — Bright-eyed beauty once was she,
— — When the bloom was on the tree; —
Spring and winter,
Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.

Not a neighbor
Passing, nod or answer will refuse
To her whisper,
" Is there from the fishers any news? "
— — Oh, her heart's adrift with one
— — On an endless voyage gone; —
Night and morning,
Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.

Fair young Hannah,
Ben, the sunburnt fisher, gaily wooes;
Hale and clever,
For a willing heart and hand he sues.
— — May-day skies are all aglow,
— — And the waves are laughing so!
For her wedding
Hannah leaves her window and her shoes.

May is passing;
'Mid the apple-boughs a pigeon cooes:
Hannah shudders,
For the mild south-wester mischief brews.
— — Round the rocks of Marblehead,
— — Outward bound, a schooner sped;
Silent, lonesome,
Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.

'Tis November:
Now no tear her wasted cheek bedews,
From Newfoundland
Not a sail returning will she lose,
— — Whispering hoarsely: " Fishermen,
— — Have you, have you heard of Ben? "
Old with watching,
Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.

Twenty winters
Bleak and drear the ragged shore she views.
Twenty seasons: —
Never one has brought her any news.
— — Still her dim eyes silently
— — Chase the white sails o'er the sea; —
Hopeless, faithful,
Hannah's at the window, binding shoes.