Archive for July 9th, 2014

Wednesday, 9 July 2014

Her Picture by Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz

Autumn was cold in Plymouth town;
The wind ran round the shore,
Now softly passing up and down,
Now wild and fierce and fleet,
Wavering overhead,
Moaning in the narrow street
As one beside the dead.

The leaves of wrinkled gold and brown
Fluttered here and there,
But not quite heedless where;
For as in hood and sad-hued gown
The Rose of Plymouth took the air.
They whirled, and whirled, and fell to rest
Upon her gentle breast,
Then on the happy earth her foot had pressed.

Autumn is wild in Plymouth town,
Barren and bleak and cold,
And still the dead leaves flutter down
As the years grow old.
And still–forever gravely fair–
Beneath their fitful whirl,
New England’s sweetest girl,
Rose Standish, takes the air.

From: http://www.lehigh.edu/~dek7/SSAWW/writ19CenCorti.htm

Date:1881

By: Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz (?1851-1933)