Her father's face grew dark and stern,
Lifted he his voice in anger,
"You shall at once this beggar spurn;
Seek a richer man, my daughter."
Then her father answered sternly,
Spake against her heart's selection,
Saying with a show of anger,
"Choose a richer man, my daughter,
Never shall you wed this fellow,
Born to toil and lowly labor.
Let him find a slave his equal
Here among the village wenches.
Seek a richer man, my daughter
From the suitors that surround you,
One who has ancestral acres,
Meeting all the needs of living
Meeting all the needs of leisure,
Filling life with joy and pleasure,
While his servants do his bidding.
Live, my daughter, like a princess,
Free from weary care and worry,
Stooping not to lowly labor,
Never shall you wed this fellow!"
Rising slowly, Molly answered,
Answered slowly, speaking calmly,
Though her heart was torn with sorrow,
"Listen, father, to your daughter,
Speaking of her heart's affection-
Him alone of all the suitors
Holds my love and admiration,
Him alone I wish to marry.
May I have your blessing, father?"
Bitter was her father's answer,
Cutting her like winds of winter,
"Seek a richer man, my daughter,
Never shall you wed this beggar!"
10. "CROSS ME NOW AND I WILL MARRY HIM WHO FIRST IN LOVE MAY ASK ME."
Then Molly bravely took her stand,
"Cross me now and I will marry
The man who first may seek my hand,
Whether white or any color."
Answered Molly, speaking calmly,
"Always have I sought to please you,
All your wishes have I followed—
Cross me now and I will marry
Him who first in love may ask me."
11. SADNESS SETTLED ON THE HOUSEHOLD.
So Molly's father called the Law,
Set a guard around his mansion,
And on his household then he saw
Sadness, like a shadow, falling.
Adamant was Molly's father,
Changing not his angry order,
Heeding not his daughter's pleading,
Or her mother's mediation.
Stern and cross grew Molly's father,
Posted warnings 'gainst the "beggar",
Asked the Law to force his order,
Set a guard around his mansion,
Walked in blackness through his kitchen,
Spoke with angry tone and gesture,
Swore that he would "kill the beggar",
Thinking to subdue his daughter,
Knowing not her wilful spirit
Matched his own in daring purpose,
Knowing not the years of sorrow
That his harshness was preparing,
All the numbness and the pathos
That would follow his decision;
All the anguish and the sadness
He was storing for the future;
Knowing not that he was driving
From his heart his only daughter.
"Right" was he, in his opinion,
"Never would he reconsider."