  Come up from the fields, father; here's a letter from our Pete, And come to the front door, mother; here's a letter from thy dear son. Lo, 'tis autumn; Lo, where the fields, deeper green, yellower and redder, Cool and sweeten Ohio's villages, with leaves fluttering in the moderate wind; Where apples ripe in the orchards hang, and grapes on the trellised vines, (Smell you the smell of the grapes on the vines? Smell you the buckwheat, where the bees were lately buzzing?) Above all, lo! the sky so calm, so transparent after the rain, and with wondrous clouds; Below, too, all calm, all vital and beautiful,—and the farm prospers well. Down in the fields all prospers well; But now from the fields come, father,—come at the daughter's call; And come to the entry, mother,—to the front door come, right away. Fast as she can she hurries,—something ominous,—her steps trembling; She does not tarry to smooth her white hair, nor adjust her cap. Open the envelope quickly; Oh, this is not our son's writing, yet his name is signed! Oh, a strange hand writes for our dear son—O stricken mother's soul! All swims before her eyes,—flashes with black,—she catches the main words only; Sentences broken,—gunshot wound in the breast—cavalry skirmish, taken to hospital, At present low, but will soon be better. Ah! now the single figure to me Amid all teeming and wealthy Ohio, with all its cities and farms, Sickly white in the face and dull in the head, very faint, By the jamb of a door leans. Grieve not so, dear mother (the just grown daughter speaks through her sobs; The little sisters huddle around, speechless and dismayed). See, dearest mother, the letter says Pete will soon be better. Alas, poor boy! he will never be better (nor, maybe, needs to be better, that brave and simple soul). While they stand at home at the door he is dead already, "Come up from the fields, father." "Come up from the fields, father." But the mother needs to be better; She, with thin form, presently dressed in black; By day her meals untouched,—then at night fitfully sleeping, often waking, In the midnight waking, weeping, longing with one deep longing, Oh, that she might withdraw unnoticed, silent from life, escape and withdraw, To follow, to seek, to be with her dear dead son! FOOTNOTE:Expression: This poem is descriptive of an incident which occurred during the Civil War. There were many such incidents, both in the North and in the South. Read the selection silently to understand its full meaning. Who are the persons pictured to your imagination after reading it? Describe the place and the time. Now read the poem aloud, giving full expression to its pathetic meaning. Select the most striking descriptive passage and read it. Select the stanza which seems to you the most touching, and read it. Study now the peculiarities of the poem. Do the lines rime? Are they of similar length? What can you say about the meter? Compare this poem with the two gems from Browning, pages 38 and 41. Compare it with the selection from Longfellow, page 54; with that from Lanier, page 66. How does it differ from any or all of these? What is poetry? Name three great American poets; three great English poets. |
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