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222
A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
189
There
was
in
this
volume
another
poem
which
is
not
in
any
of
the
later
editions,
the
impression
of
which,
as
it
remains
to
me
in
broken
snatches,
is
very
beautiful.
It
began
with
the
lines
"Bind
up
thy
tresses,
thou
beautiful
one,
Of
brown
in
the
shadow,
and
gold
in
the
sun."
It
was
a
refreshment
and
an
inspiration
to
look
into
this
book
between
my
long
rows
of
figures,
and
read
such
poems
as
"The
Angel
of
Patience,"
"Follen,"
"Raphael,"
and
that
wonderfully
rendered
"Hymn"
from
Lamartine,
that
used
to
whisper
itself
through
me
after
I
had
read
it,
like
the
echo
of
a
spirit's
voice:--
"When
the
Breath
Divine
is
flowing,
Zephyr-like
o'er
all
things
going,
And,
as
the
touch
of
viewless
fingers,
Softly
on
my
soul
it
lingers,
Open
to
a
breath
the
lightest,
Conscious
of
a
touch
the
slightest,--
Then,
O
Father,
Thou
alone,
From
the
shadow
of
thy
throne,
To
the
sighing
of
my
breast
And
its
rapture
answerest."
I
grew
so
familiar
with
this
volume
that
I
felt
acquainted
with
the
poet
long
before
I
met
him.
It
remained
in
my
desk-drawer
for
months.
I
thought
it
belonged
to
my
poetic
friend,
the
baler
of
cloth.
But
one
day
he
informed
me
that
it
was
a
borrowed
book;
he
thought,
however,
he
should
claim
it
for
his
own,
now
that
he
had
kept
it
so
long.
Upon
which
remark
I
delivered
it
up
to
the
custody
of
his
own
conscience,
and
saw
it
no
more.
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