American History

Priscilla and John Alden lie at rest,

Her small hands, folded close against her breast,

And his, that once were intimate with toil,

Are still a part of this New England soil.

God's Acre is an easier field to plough-

Earth presses on their eyelids gently now.

John Alden and Priscilla

(1945)

Newell Convers Wyeth

(1882-1945)

American artist

Across the hills their cottage still remains.

Dust of the summer, deluge of the rains

Season its timbers, while the hearth they made

Is trimly swept, and wooden platters laid

On sturdy tables, as they were before;

And all is snug behind the rough-hewn door.

So we are drawn together in that hour.

We pause a moment, pick a ragged flower

Creeping across the threshold, lean to trace

The letters of those names that interlace,

And nod our heads in salutation, knowing

Whose steps we hear along the salt wind's blowing!

"American History"

Marguerite Janvrin Adams