I took my leave of Wandor Hall, And trod the woodland ways. "What shall I do so long to bear The burden of my days?" I sighed my heart into the boughs Whereby the culvers cooed; For only I between them went Unwooing and unwooed. "O so many, many, many Lilies bending stately heads! O so many, many, many Strawberries ripened on their beds! O so many, many, many Maids, and yet my heart undone! What to me are all, are any-- I have lost my--one." THE LONG WHITE SEAM. As I came round the harbor buoy, The lights began to gleam, No wave the land-locked water stirred, The crags were white as cream; And I marked my love by candle-light Sewing her long white seam. It's aye sewing ashore, my dear, Watch and steer at sea, It's reef and furl, and haul the line, Set sail and think of thee. I climbed to reach her cottage door; O sweetly my love sings! Like a shaft of light her voice breaks forth, My soul to meet it springs As the shining water leaped of old, When stirred by angel wings. Aye longing to list anew, Awake and in my dream, But never a song she sang like this, Sewing her long white seam. Fair fall the lights, the harbor lights, That brought me in to thee, And peace drop down on that low roof For the sight that I did see, And the voice, my dear, that rang so clear All for the love of me. For O, for O, with brows bent low By the candle's flickering gleam, Her wedding gown it was she wrought, Sewing the long white seam. AN OLD WIFE'S SONG. And what will ye hear, my daughters dear?-- Oh, what will ye hear this night? Shall I sing you a song of the yuletide cheer, Or of lovers and ladies bright? "Thou shalt sing," they say (for we dwell far away From the land where fain would we be), "Thou shalt sing us again some old-world strain That is sung in our own countrie. "Thou shalt mind us so of the times long ago, When we walked on the upland lea, While the old harbor light waxed faint in the white, Long rays shooting out from the sea; "While lambs were yet asleep, and the dew lay deep On the grass, and their fleeces clean and fair. Never grass was seen so thick nor so green As the grass that grew up there! "In the town was no smoke, for none there awoke-- At our feet it lay still as still could be; And we saw far below the long river flow, And the schooners a-warping out to sea. "Sing us now a strain shall make us feel again As we felt in that sacred peace of morn, When we had the first view of the wet sparkling dew, In the shyness of a day just born." So I sang an old song--it was plain and not long-- I had sung it very oft when they were small; And long ere it was done they wept every one: Yet this was all the song--this was all:--