Poems (Baldwyn)/Letter from the Country

by Augusta Baldwyn

LETTER FROM THE COUNTRY.

(Written at the age of 16.)

Dear sister, I steal a short time,
 Having now rock'd the baby asleep,
To write you a letter in rhyme,
 ('Tis a secret I beg you will keep!)

   That R———s a very fine place,
    I will not pretend to deny;
   A very fine man is Judge C———;
    Of others I'll write by-and-by.

Maria and I often walk out,
 Which 'I guess' the 'folks think' 'pretty strange';
They talk of it much, there's no doubt,
 As they think all are idle who range.

   But we always walk'd out when at home,
    And are all "doing use" through the day;
   Oh, sure it is right thus to roam,
    As at evening alone do we stray?

I'm delighted with all the fine views;
 The hills, and the valleys, and trees;
Indeed I see much to amuse,
 Of which I will write, if you please.

The steam doctors have had 'a convention';
 Men, women, and children did go,
To hear of this strange new invention,
 Said to cure all diseases, you know.

    They say it turns gray hairs to brown,
     Can smooth an old maid's wrinkl'd cheek;
    Can dispel from the brow every frown,
     Make furies look lovely and meek!

'Tis said, and I doubt not the truth,
 That love it will cure in all cases;
From the mind of a too-faithful youth
 All thoughts of his lady-love chases!

    Now if pity still dwells in your breast,
     Oh, publish this piece of good news;
    As you have so often oppress'd,
     In mercy you cannot refuse!

Enough of this nonsense, you'll say,
 And tell me about all my friends;—
I saw Miss H. B. yesterday,
 And she much love to you sends.

    Fanny C. is married at last!
     I went to the wedding with Jane;
    Though the sky did look overcast,
     And we were afraid it would rain.

Only think! I was sweeping the room.
 And I such a figure did look;
In terror I dropped the hair-broom,
 As a loud rap announc'd Mr. Brook!

    He is really a fine-looking beau,
     Though rather too tall for my taste;
    He came to invite us to go,
     And seem'd in a very great haste.

Fair Fanny was splendidly dress'd;
 The luncheon I will not dwell on;
Her marriage of all was the best;
 Laugh not, and I will now tell on.

    I dream'd on a piece of the cake
     Three nights; but it was all in vain!
    Oh, do you, my dear, think it will make
     Poor me an old maid to remain?

I went to the cottage so spruce,
 And we talked a great deal about you.
To be friendly I find is no use;
 All you told of the maiden is true.

    'Melinda's' not call'd on me yet;
     'Julia Anna' call'd when I was out;
    Their cousins came too,—what a set;
     You remember our call there, no doubt.

On my return I found Hannah here;
 Jeremiah had driven her down;
And oh, I saw Moses, the dear,
 When John drove me to church "up in town."

    I really do like Mr. Potter;
     His sermon I'll never forget.
    I see every day "the old trotter";^[1]
     I've not seen my friend David yet.

I have made my new cambric dress;
 Have altered my merino one too;
I have made those monstrous sleeves less,
 And it looks just as well as if new.

    I write full many a piece too
     When evening and silence prevail;
    And.I've read three books at least too,
     Though much has suspended the tale.

This morning I got your long letter,
 (You've written me two since I came).
I am glad to hear you are better;
 And happy to say I'm the same.

    Letters I never write often;
     But I've now been here a long time;
    So your just displeasure to soften
     I've attempted to write you in rhyme.

But this I must bring to a close,
 Although I have much more to tell;
The rest I will write you in prose,
 And this evening will bid you farewell.

1. The individual we had so named was an odious old bachelor who promenaded the street of the village continually. We had a due respect for estimable old age.