Alice Fell

491 Words
Subscribe for ad free access & additional features for teachers. Authors: 267, Books: 3,607, Poems & Short Stories: 4,435, Forum Members: 71,154, Forum Posts: 1,238,602, Quizzes: 344 The Post-boy drove with fierce career, For threat'ning clouds the moon had drown'd; When suddenly I seem'd to hear A moan, a lamentable sound. As if the wind blew many ways I heard the sound, and more and more: It seem'd to follow with the Chaise, And still I heard it as before. At length I to the Boy call'd out, He stopp'd his horses at the word; 10 But neither cry, nor voice, nor shout, Nor aught else like it could be heard. The Boy then smack'd his whip, and fast The horses scamper'd through the rain; And soon I heard upon the blast The voice, and bade him halt again. Said I, alighting on the ground, "What can it be, this piteous moan?" And there a little Girl I found, Sitting behind the Chaise, alone. 20 "My Cloak!" the word was last and first, And loud and bitterly she wept, As if her very heart would burst; And down from off the Chaise she leapt. "What ails you, Child?" she sobb'd, "Look here!" I saw it in the wheel entangled, A weather beaten Rag as e'er From any garden scare-crow dangled. 'Twas twisted betwixt nave and spoke; Her help she lent, and with good heed 30 Together we released the Cloak; A wretched, wretched rag indeed! "And whither are you going, Child, To night along these lonesome ways?" "To Durham" answer'd she half wild-- "Then come with me into the chaise." She sate like one past all relief; Sob after sob she forth did send In wretchedness, as if her grief Could never, never, have an end. 40 "My Child, in Durham do you dwell?" She check'd herself in her distress, And said, "My name is Alice Fell; I'm fatherless and motherless." "And I to Durham, Sir, belong." And then, as if the thought would choke Her very heart, her grief grew strong; And all was for her tatter'd Cloak. The chaise drove on; our journey's end Was nigh; and, sitting by my side, 50 As if she'd lost her only friend She wept, nor would be pacified. Up to the Tavern-door we post; Of Alice and her grief I told; And I gave money to the Host, To buy a new Cloak for the old. "And let it be of duffil grey, As warm a cloak as man can sell!" Proud Creature was she the next day, The little Orphan, Alice Fell! 60 Art of Worldly Wisdom Daily In the 1600s, Balthasar Gracian, a jesuit priest wrote 300 aphorisms on living life called "The Art of Worldly Wisdom." Join our newsletter below and read them all, one at a time. Email: Sonnet-a-Day Newsletter Shakespeare wrote over 150 sonnets! Join our Sonnet-A-Day Newsletter and read them all, one at a time. Email:
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