 | Studies in verse (1865) |  |
The farmer of the pastures at their door
Was Andrew Eden: Andrew Eden's son,
Not less was Andrew: Lucy Moore had been
His foster-sister, for the mother died
After his birth, so Lucy's rear'd the child;
Since she was poor, and wedded to a man
As constant to the alehouse as its sign.
And Andrew in the autumn ploughed the fields,
And Andrew sowed the seed in early spring;
But, fall or seed-time, ever at his task
His face was turning towards the cottage door:
The flutter of a garment stopped his team,
The glitter of an arm withheld his hand,
And left a sterile patch to tell its tales
Among the coming harvest's reedy crowd.
So after Sunday service in the porch
He loitered anxious, near the mounded rests
Of those who loitered as he loitered now,
Poor hearts of mould, in their day: with as warm
An expectation, and as deep a throb,
When their young loves stept from the porch of prayer
With rare and lucid morning in their eyes.
Was Andrew Eden: Andrew Eden's son,
Not less was Andrew: Lucy Moore had been
His foster-sister, for the mother died
After his birth, so Lucy's rear'd the child;
Since she was poor, and wedded to a man
86
And Andrew in the autumn ploughed the fields,
And Andrew sowed the seed in early spring;
But, fall or seed-time, ever at his task
His face was turning towards the cottage door:
The flutter of a garment stopped his team,
The glitter of an arm withheld his hand,
And left a sterile patch to tell its tales
Among the coming harvest's reedy crowd.
So after Sunday service in the porch
He loitered anxious, near the mounded rests
Of those who loitered as he loitered now,
Poor hearts of mould, in their day: with as warm
An expectation, and as deep a throb,
When their young loves stept from the porch of prayer
With rare and lucid morning in their eyes.
| Studies in verse (1865) | |