She stood among the cowering crowd As calm as saints in heaven, Her eyes as sweet as summer skies, Her face like summer's even. The devils wrought their wicked will On matron and on maid. "Thou hast bewitched us!" cried they all, But not a word she said. They fastened chains about her feet, And carried her away; For many days in Salem jail Alone and ill she lay She heard the scythe along the field Ring through the fragrant air, She smelt the wild-rose on the wind That bloweth everywhere. Reviled and hated and bereft, The soul had plenteous rest, Though sorrow like a frantic flood Beat sore upon her breast. At last the prison door stood wide, They led the saint abroad; By many an old familiar place Her trembling footsteps trod. Till faint with weakness and distress, She climbed a hillside bleak, And faced the gallows built thereon, Still undisturbed and meek. They hanged this weary woman there, Like any felon stout; Her white hairs on the cruel rope Were scattered all about. The body swung upon the tree In every flitting wind, Reviled and mocked by passengers And folk of evil mind. A woman old and innocent, To die a death of shame, With kindred, neighbors, friends thereby, And none to utter blame. Oh, God, that such a thing should be On earth which Thou hast made! A voice from heaven answered me, "Father forgive," He said. ROSE TERRY COOKE. At the August session, six persons were tried and, of course, condemned, among them Elizabeth and John Proctor. The former had been arrested April 11, and when her husband came to her defence, he was also arrested. They were tried together August 5, and both were convicted and sentenced to be hanged. Proctor was executed August 19. His wife escaped by pleading pregnancy. Some months later she gave birth to a child, and her execution was again ordered early in 1693, but Governor Phips granted a reprieve, and she ultimately escaped. A SALEM WITCH [August 19, 1692] The wind blows east,--the wind blows west,-- It blows upon the gallows tree: Oh, little babe beneath my breast, He died for thee!--he died for me! The judges came,--the children came (Some mother's heart o'er each had yearned), They set their black lies on my name:-- "A God-accursèd witch who learned "Each night (they said) the Devil's art, Through Salem wood by devils drawn."-- I, whose heart beat against his heart From dark till dawn!--from dark till dawn! He faced them in his fearless scorn (The sun was on him as he stood): "No purer is her babe unborn; I prove her sinless with my blood." They spared the babe beneath my breast,-- They bound his hands,--they set me free,-- Hush, hush, my babe! hush, hush and rest; He died for thee!--he died for me!