The writings of John Greenleaf Whittier, Volume 4.
John Greenleaf Whittier, Ed.

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[260] They sat and watched in idle mood
     The gleam and shade of lake and wood;
The beach the keen light smote,
     The white sail of a boat;

Swan flocks of lilies shoreward lying,
     In sweetness, not in music, dying;
Hardhack, and virgin's-bower,
     And white-spiked clethra-flower.

With careless ears they heard the plash
     And breezy wash of Attitash,
The wood-bird's plaintive cry,
     The locust's sharp reply.

And teased the while, with playful hand,
     The shaggy dog of Newfoundland,
Whose uncouth frolic spilled
     Their baskets berry-filled.

Then one, the beauty of whose eyes
     Was evermore a great surprise,
Tossed back her queenly head,
     And, lightly laughing, said:

“No bridegroom's hand be mine to hold
     That is not lined with yellow gold;
I tread no cottage-floor;
     I own no lover poor.

My love must come on silken wings,
     With bridal lights of diamond rings,
Not foul with kitchen smirch,
     With tallow-dip for torch. “