Your life is well without me;
What care you that these hills will close
Like prison-walls about me?
"'No mood is mine to seek a wife,
Or daughter for my mother
Who loves you loses in that love
All power to love another!
"'I dare your pity or your scorn,
With pride your own exceeding;
I fling my heart into your lap
Without a word of pleading.'
"She looked up in his face of pain
So archly, yet so tender
'And if I lend you mine,' she said,
'Will you forgive the lender?
"'Nor frock nor tan can hide the man;
And see you not, my farmer,
How weak and fond a woman waits
Behind this silken armor?
"'I love you: on that love alone,
And not my worth, presuming,
Will you not trust for summer fruit
The tree in May-day blooming?'
"Alone the hangbird overhead,
His hair-swung cradle straining,
Looked down to see love's miracle,--
The giving that is gaining.
"And so the farmer found a wife,
His mother found
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