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A New England Girlhood, Outlined from Memory (Beverly, MA)
·
Lucy Larcom
44
I
had
various
reasons
for
my
preferences.
With
some,
I
was
caught
by
a
melodious
echo,
or
a
sonorous
ring;
with
others
by
the
hint
of
a
picture,
or
a
story,
or
by
some
sacred
suggestion
that
attracted
me,
I
knew
not
why.
Of
some
I
was
fond
just
because
I
misunderstood
them;
and
of
these
I
made
a
free
version
in
my
mind,
as
I
murmured
them
over.
One
of
my
first
favorites
was
certainly
rather
a
singular
choice
for
a
child
of
three
or
four
years.
I
had
no
idea
of
its
meaning,
but
made
up
a
little
story
out
of
it,
with
myself
as
the
heroine.
It
began
with
the
words--
"Come,
humble
sinner,
in
whose
breast
A
thousand
thoughts
revolve."
The
second
stanza
read
thus:--
"I'll
go
to
Jesus,
though
my
sin
Hath
like
a
mountain
rose."
I
did
not
know
that
this
last
line
was
bad
grammar,
but
thought
that
the
sin
in
question
was
something
pretty,
that
looked
"like
a
mountain
rose."
Mountains
I
had
never
seen;
they
were
a
glorious
dream
to
me.
And
a
rose
that
grew
on
a
mountain
must
surely
be
prettier
than
any
of
our
red
wild
roses
on
the
hill,
sweet
as
they
were.
I
would
pluck
that
rose,
and
carry
it
up
the
mountain-side
into
the
temple
where
the
King
sat,
and
would
give
it
to
Him;
and
then
He
would
touch
me
with
his
sceptre,
and
let
me
through
into
a
garden
full
of
flowers.
There
was
no
garden
in
the
hymn;
I
suppose
the
"rose"
made
me
invent
one.
But
it
did
read--
Marker
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Fine marker
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Circle
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Scalpel
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Sieve
Purify
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Redo
Start over
