Poem of the Week for Christmas
December 22, 2003
High over peaks whose ermine crest
It crowned with rainbow dyes,
The sun smiled in th' expectant West
An tinged the purple skies ;
A blaze of brightness o'er the plains
Its slanting radiance threw,
And from the cabin's dirt-grimmed panes
A gleam of welcome drew.
He paused to gaze. Th' uplifted latch,
From nerveless fingers sliding,
Let in some truant beams, to catch
A glimpse of what was hiding ---
Th' unbroken silence held even then
Spell-bound, a single second.
No more for scattering pearl and gem
Each to the other beckoned.
His lonely plate and sole tin-cup
Flash out in jeweled spendor ;
His meager board is garnished up
By magic, rare and tender ;
His table is a snowy cloth,
His can, urn silver-mounted,
His solitary dip none loth
As gas to be accounted ;
His beans, a dish of raspberries gleams,
His bacon, white-fish toasted,
His shapeless mass of biscuits seems
A dainty turkey roasted ;
A coil of fuse to sausage turns ;
A keg of giant powder
Benignly in the sunbeams burns
A gallon pail of chowder.
A hanging coat bathed in the haze
Assumes the form of human,
Revealing to his startled gaze
The side view of a woman.
He rubs his eyes. The instant dips
Behind the hills the sun ;
Fast each belated truant trips,
Its little task well done.
His home is dark, his board is bare !
" I must have been mistaken ;
'Tis a deceit, there's nothing there
But coffee, beans, and bacon.
Well " --- from his pocket takes a stone ---
" By Jove ! this is a whopper ;
'Twill go ten thousand to the ton ---
Galena and grey copper.
"A million, cash in hand. No less
Can I afford to sell her ;
For two I'll let her slide, I guess,
To that Chicago feller."
So sweet Contentment, which is gain,
Sits down with Hope beside him ---
More blest than we, who dream in vain,
So venture to deride him.
--Harriet L. Wason