Poems (Chitwood)/Bessie Lee
BESSIE LEE.
The foot-path to the cottage Is covered o'er with snow,The vines about the window Are blowing to and fro,And my heart is going sadly, Back to the "long ago."
In the Spring-time, round the cottage, Sang the wild birds on the tree,And in many a fragrant flower-heart Lay sweet treasures for the bee—There I met the fairy maiden, With the name of Bessie Lee.
Like the gentle harp Eolian Was the gentle cadence of her tone—And her heart in every beating, Won an answer from my own—Down the path of life I wandered, Now no more in soul alone.
The flowers about the cottage Were gemmed with dews of June, And the streamlet, by the hill-side Hummed a sort of drowsy tune,Bessie Lice and I were walking 'Neath the tissue of the moon.
The variegated leaflets Proclaimed the Autumn nigh,And sadly through the forests The chilling winds swept by—No more beneath the moonlight Walked Bessie Lice and I.
The foot-path to the cottage With snow is covered o'er,And the vines are drooping lowly O'er the window and the door—For the hand that used to twine them Can twine them never more.The white snow lies all softly Upon the willow tree,And the world which was so lovely Is very dark to me—Yonder gleams the marble head-stone With the name carved—Bessie Lee.