Poems (Chitwood)/Bessie Lee

by Mary Louisa Chitwood

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.