Lucy Larcom (05 Mar 1824 – 17 Apr 1893 | Beverly MA – Boston MA) poet, Rushlight Literary Magazine founder.

Sitting at the window, binding shoes. Sitting, stitching, in a mournful muse. How

handsome he looks, sitting there at his ease. Father Time, your footsteps go lightly

as the falling snow. In your swing I’m sitting, see! There’s a merry brown thrush

sitting up in the tree. He’s singing to me; I’m as happy as happy can be! Yes, I saw

them, boys and girls, no look or thought of flitting; where the track runs they were

sitting. Oh, snow! Do you see me here sitting – a-knitting, a-knitting – wishing myself

with you breezily flitting, like any wild elf? Fie on a husband sitting still in the house at

home! Now, sitting at her innocent work, she finds life grows so sweet. Ay, in heavenly

places, love means more than sitting still – simply looking into one another’s faces.

Larcom, Lucy. The Poetical Works of Lucy Larcom. Boston: Houghton, Mifflin & Co., 1885. https://archive.org/details/poeticalworksofl00lar/page/n10/mode/1up