Anne Whitney



The Way Appointed

by Anne Whitney

Easily moved, easily swayed
Hither and thither,
As easily hoping
And dismayed.

Up in the clouds -- over the hill,
Higher and higher,
Down, down in the meadow,
And lower still.

Shadows over me, far, afar --
Moving and moving --
Dropping my eyelids,
There too they are.

The sun, a golden key I win,
Turning and turning,
Opes the sweet heavens
And lets me in,

Lovers, 'tis true, lovers a score
Sighing and sighing;
One, right one, were better,
Yet, fate, send me more.

Friends leave me, how, I cannot tell;
Yearning and yearning,
Others rise after,
Loved as well.

In blasted hopes new ones thrive;
Joying and grieving,
Ephemerals wholly
Help me to live.

Mother, she planned -- Father with strife
Planted and watered --
For what, are you asking?
To fit me to life.

World, said I, your tasks I do not refuse;
Take me and try me;
Turn me and mould me,
And put me to use.

Millers the water, sailors the wind;
Headfull and heartfull --
You will not? dull world, you, --
Then go -- never mind.

Vainly I veil -- your eyes shoot between;
Fairly and frankly,
I am a maiden
Turned of eighteen.


Copyright 1859
346 & 348 Broadway
D. Appleton & Company
New York
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