The Poems of Robert Bloomfield :: :: University of Virginia Library

“The butcher whistled at the door,
“And brought a load of meat;
“Boys rubb'd their hands, and cried, ‘there's more,’
“Dogs wagg'd their tails to see't.

VII

“On went the boilers till the hake
“Had much ado to bear 'em;
“The magpie talk'd for talking sake,
“Birds sung;—but who could hear 'em?

VIII

“Creak went the jack; the cats were scar'd,
“We had not time to heed 'em,
“The owd hins cackled in the yard,
“For we forgot to feed 'em!

166

IX

“Yet 'twas not I, as I may say,
“Because as how, d'ye see,
“I only help'd there for the day;
“They cou'dn't lay't to me.

X

“Now Mrs. Cheerum's best lace cap
“Was mounted on her head,
“Guests at the door began to rap,
“And now the cloth was spread.

XI

“Then clatter went the earthen plates—
“‘Mind, Judie,’ was the cry;
“I could have cop't them at their pates;
“‘Trenchers for me,’ said I,

167

XII

“That look so clean upon the ledge,
“All proof against a fall;
“They never turn a sharp knife's edge,
“But fashion rules us all.

XIII

“Home came the jovial Horkey load,
“Last of the whole year's crop;
“And Grace amongst the green boughs rode
“Right plump upon the top.

XIV

“This way and that the waggon reel'd,
“And never queen rode higher;
“Her cheeks were colour'd in the fields,
“And ours before the fire.

168

XV

“The laughing harvest-folks, and John,
“Came in and look'd askew;
“'Twas my red face that set them on,
“And then they leer'd at Sue.

XVI

“And Farmer Cheerum went, good man,
“And broach'd the Horkey beer;
“And sitch a mort of folks began
“To eat up our good cheer.

XVII

“Says he, ‘Thank God for what's before us;
“That thus we meet agen;’
“The mingling voices, like a chorus,
“Join'd cheerfully, ‘Amen.’—

169

XVIII

“Welcome and plenty, there they found 'em,
“The ribs of beef grew light;
“And puddings—till the boys got round 'em,
“And then they vanish'd quite.

XIX

“Now all the guests, with Farmer Crouder,
“Began to prate of corn;
“And we found out they talk'd the louder,
“The oftner pass'd the Horn.

XX

“Out came the nuts; we set a cracking;
“The ale came round our way;
“By gom, we women fell a clacking
“As loud again as they.

170

XXI

“John sung ‘Old Benbow’ loud and strong,
“And I, ‘The Constant Swain,’
“‘Cheer up, my Lads,’ was Simon's song,
“‘We'll conquer them again.’

XXII

“Now twelve o'clock was drawing nigh,
“And all in merry cue;
“I knock'd the cask, ‘O, ho!’ said I,
“‘We've almost conquer'd you.’

XXIII

“My Lord begg'd round, and held his hat,
“Says Farmer Gruff, says he,
“‘There's many a Lord, Sam, I know that,
“‘Has begg'd as well as thee.’

171

XXIV

“Bump in his hat the shillings tumbled
“All round among the folks;
“‘Laugh if you wool,’ said Sam, and mumbled,
“‘You pay for all your jokes.’

XXV

“Joint stock you know among the men,
“To drink at their own charges;
“So up they got full drive, and then
“Went out to halloo largess.

XXVI

“And sure enough the noise they made!!—
—“But let me mind my tale:
“We follow'd them, we worn't afraid,
“We'ad all been drinking ale.

172

XXVII

“As they stood hallooing back to back,
“We, lightly as a feather,
“Went sideling round, and in a crack
“Had pinn'd their coats together.

XXVIII

“'Twas near upon't as light as noon;
“‘A largess, on the hill,
“They shouted to the full round moon,
“I think I hear 'em still!

XXIX

“But when they found the trick, my stars!
“They well knew who to blame,
“Our giggles turn'd to loud ha, ha's,
“And arter us they came.

173

XXX

“The hindmost was the dairy-maid,
“And Sam came blundering by;
“She could not shun him, so they said;
“I know she did not try.

XXXI

“And off set John, with all his might,
“To chase me down the yard,
“Till I was nearly gran'd outright;
“He hugg'd so woundy hard.

XXXII

“Still they kept up the race and laugh,
“And round the house we flew;
“But bark ye! the best fun by half
“Was Simon arter Sue.

174

XXXIII

“She car'd not, dark nor light, not she,
“So, near the dairy door
“She pass'd a clean white hog, you see,
“They'd kilt the day before.

XXXIV

“High on the spirket there it hung,—
“‘Now, Susie—what can save ye?’
“Round the cold pig his arms he flung,
“And cried, ‘Ah! here I have ye!’

XXXV

“The farmers heard what Simon said,
“And what a noise! good lack!
“Some almost laugh'd themselves to dead
“And others clapt his back.

175

XXXVI

“We all at once began to tell
“What fun we had abroad;
“But Simon stood our jeers right well;
—“He fell asleep and snor'd.

XXXVII

“Then in his button-hole upright,
“Did Farmer Crouder put
“A slip of paper, twisted tight,
“And held the candle to't.

XXXVIII

“It smok'd, and smok'd, beneath his nose,
“The harmless blaze crept higher;
“Till with a vengeance up he rose,
“Fire, Judie, Sue! fire, fire!

176

XXXIX

“The clock struck one—some talk'd of parting,
“Some said it was a sin,
“And hitch'd their chairs;—but those for starting
“Now let the moonlight in.

XL

“Owd women, loitering for the nonce ,
“Stood praising the fine weather;
“The menfolks took the hint at once
“To kiss them altogether.

XLI

“And out ran every soul beside,
“A shunny-pated crew;
“Owd folks could neither run nor hide,
“So some ketch'd one, some tew.

177

XLII

“They skriggl'd and began to scold,
“But laughing got the master;
“Some quack'ling cried, ‘let go your hold;’
“The farmers held the faster.

XLIII

“All innocent, that I'll be sworn,
“There worn't a bit of sorrow,
“And women, if their gowns are torn,
“Can mend them on the morrow.

XLIV

“Our shadows helter skelter danc'd
“About the moonlight ground;
“The wondering sheep, as on we pranc'd,
“Got up and gaz'd around.

178

XLV

“And well they might—till Farmer Cheerum,
“Now with a hearty glee,
“Bade all good morn as he came near 'em,
“And then to bed went he.

XLVI

“Then off we stroll'd this way and that,
“With merry voices ringing;
“And Echo answered us right pat,
“As home we rambl'd singing.

XLVII

“For, when we laugh'd, it laugh'd again,
“And to our own doors follow'd!
“‘Yo, ho!’ we cried; ‘Yo, ho!’ so plain,
“The misty meadow halloo'd.

179

XLVIII

“That's all my tale, and all the fun,
“Come, turn your wheels about;
“My worsted, see!—that's nicely done,
“Just held my story out!!”

XLIX

Poor Judie!—Thus Time knits or spins
The worsted from Life's ball!
Death stopt thy tales, and stopt thy pins,
—And so he'll serve us all.

A sliding pot-hook

Such a number

The lender of the reapers

Strangled

An iron hook.

For the purpose.

Giddy, thoughtless.

To struggle quick.

Choaking.