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WALKING HOME AT NIGHT
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


148

WALKING HOME AT NIGHT

HUSBAND TO WIFE

You then for me made up your mind
To leave your rights of home behind.
Your width of table-rim, and space
Of fireside floor, your sitting-place,
And all your claim to share the best,
Of all the house, with all the rest,
To guide for me, my house, and all
My home, though small my home may be.
Come, hood your head; the wind is keen.
Come this side—here: I'll be your screen.
The clothes your mother put you on
Are quite outworn and wholly gone,

149

And now you wear, from crown to shoe,
What my true love has bought you new,
That now, in comely shape, is shown,
My own will's gift, to deck my own;
And oh! of all I have to share,
For your true share a half is small.
Come, hood your head; wrap up, now do.
Walk close to me: I'll shelter you.
And now, when we go out to spend
A frosty night with some old friend,
And ringing clocks may tell, at last,
The evening hours have fled too fast,
No forkèd roads, to left and right,
Will sunder us, for night or light;
But all my woe 's for you to feel,
And all my weal's for you to know.
Come hood your head. You can't see out?
I'll lead you right, you need not doubt.