 | Poems of Rural Life in Common English |  |
156
AT THE DOOR
The waters roll, quick-bubbling by the shoal,
Or leap the rock, outfoaming in a bow.
The wind blows free in gushes round the tree,
Along the grove of oaks in double row,
Where lovers seek the maidens' evening floor,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.
Or leap the rock, outfoaming in a bow.
The wind blows free in gushes round the tree,
Along the grove of oaks in double row,
Where lovers seek the maidens' evening floor,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.
With iron bound, the wheel-rims roll around,
And crunch the crackling flint below their load.
The gravel, trod by horses ironshod,
All crackles shrill along the beaten road,
Where lovers come to seek, in our old place,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
The maiden's face.
And crunch the crackling flint below their load.
The gravel, trod by horses ironshod,
All crackles shrill along the beaten road,
157
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
The maiden's face.
And oh! how sweet's the time the lover's feet
May come before the door to seek a bride,
As he may stand and knock with shaking hand,
And lean to hear the sweetest voice inside;
While there a heart will leap, to hear once more
The stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.
May come before the door to seek a bride,
As he may stand and knock with shaking hand,
And lean to hear the sweetest voice inside;
While there a heart will leap, to hear once more
The stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.
How sweet's the time when we are in our prime,
With children, now our care and aye our joy,
And child by child may scamper, skipping wild,
Back home from school or play-games, girl or boy,
And there upon the door-stone leap once more,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.
With children, now our care and aye our joy,
And child by child may scamper, skipping wild,
Back home from school or play-games, girl or boy,
And there upon the door-stone leap once more,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.
158
Be my abode, beside some uphill road,
Where people pass along, if not abide,
And not a place where day may bring no face
With kindly smiles, as lonesome hours may glide;
But let me hear some friend, well-known before,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.
Where people pass along, if not abide,
And not a place where day may bring no face
With kindly smiles, as lonesome hours may glide;
But let me hear some friend, well-known before,
With stip-step light, and tip-tap slight,
Against the door.
| Poems of Rural Life in Common English | |