Ghost-bereft With other stories and studies in verse: By Jane Barlow |
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 | Ghost-bereft |  |
I
Sure I'm sorry the crathur was scared, but I meant it no harm all the whileIf I peered in its face, and it stretchin' its legs down long steps in the stile,
Where I'm resting this now. There was somethin'—the blue belike clear in its eyes—
Set me thinkin' of one weeny sister I had very nigh the same size,
In the ould days a body remembers. ‘Good evenin'’ I bid it, but straight
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Lookin' back till it seen would I follow. 'Twould bother me finely, no fear,
Limpin' lame, I'd ha' caught it as aisy if up it had flown in the air,
Like the birds that flirt up on their wings when you pass where they're pickin' a bit:
'Tis a pity of frightenin' the birds and the childer—but sure they've no wit.
| Ghost-bereft | |