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Crawford, Isabella Valancy, 1850-1887

"Old Spookses' Pass, Malcolm's Katie, and other poems"

I wish'd our love
"Might blot the 'All is vanity' from this brief life,
"Burning brightly as that star and winging on
"Thro' unseen space of veil'd Eternity,
"Brightened by Immortality--not lost."
"Awful and sweet the wish!" she said, and so--
We rested in the silence of content.


HOW DEACON FRY BOUGHT A "DUCHESS."

It sorter skeer'd the neighbours round,
For of all the 'tarnal set thet clutches
Their dollars firm, he wus the boss;
An' yet he went and byed a "Duchess."
I never will forget the day
He druv her from the city market;
I guess thar warn't more'n two
Thet stayed to hum thet day in Clarket.
And one of them wus Gran'pa Finch,
Who's bed-rid up to Spense's attic:
The other Aunt Mehitabel,
Whose jints and temper is rheumatic.
She said she "guessed that Deacon Fry
Would some day see he'd done more fitter
To send his dollars savin' souls
Than waste 'em on a horn'd critter!"
We all turn'd out at Pewse's store,
The last one jest inside the village;
The Jedge he even chanc'd along,
And so did good old Elder Millage.
We sot around on kegs and planks,
And on the fence we loung'd precarious;
The Elder felt to speak a word,
And sed his thoughts wus very various.
He sed the Deacon call'd to mind
The blessed patriarchs and their cattle;
"To whose herds cum a great increase
When they in furrin parts did settle.


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