 | Poems of Rural Life in Common English |  |
49
WELL TO DO
As wind might blow along the snow,
By shelter'd nooks, and hollow caves,
By icy eaves, and frosty leaves,
And streams too hard to run in waves,
No inn-board then, in swinging slack,
And creaking shrill, would keep me back,
Would call me back, by creaking shrill,
From home and you, beyond the hill,
Though we were well to do.
By shelter'd nooks, and hollow caves,
By icy eaves, and frosty leaves,
And streams too hard to run in waves,
No inn-board then, in swinging slack,
And creaking shrill, would keep me back,
Would call me back, by creaking shrill,
From home and you, beyond the hill,
Though we were well to do.
When down before our porchèd door,
The moonshade of the house might lie,
Our room would show a ruddy glow
To muffled people passing by,
For we had flames before our feet,
And on our board, both meal and meat;
Both meal and meat upon our board,
Without a stint, could we afford,
So well were we to do.
The moonshade of the house might lie,
Our room would show a ruddy glow
To muffled people passing by,
50
And on our board, both meal and meat;
Both meal and meat upon our board,
Without a stint, could we afford,
So well were we to do.
When snow was deep, for our few sheep,
And made their whitest wool look brown,
And cold-pinched cows, below white boughs,
Had no warm ground to lay them down,
Then I'd a roof for ev'ry head,
For ev'ry hide a strawen bed,
A strawen bed for ev'ry hide,
And cribs of hay all fill'd with pride,
So well was I to do.
And made their whitest wool look brown,
And cold-pinched cows, below white boughs,
Had no warm ground to lay them down,
Then I'd a roof for ev'ry head,
For ev'ry hide a strawen bed,
A strawen bed for ev'ry hide,
And cribs of hay all fill'd with pride,
So well was I to do.
When clad anew, from crown to shoe,
The children walk'd with prouder pace,
And you might tell, or only spell,
Of what would suit your shape or face,
And you came out, and look'd so fine,
I felt quite proud to call you mine,
To call you mine I felt quite proud,
Before our friends, or in a crowd,
When we were well to do.
The children walk'd with prouder pace,
And you might tell, or only spell,
Of what would suit your shape or face,
51
I felt quite proud to call you mine,
To call you mine I felt quite proud,
Before our friends, or in a crowd,
When we were well to do.
| Poems of Rural Life in Common English | |