PATHS OF FORMER TIME
No; no;
It must not be so:
They are the ways we do not go.
Still chew
The kine, and moo
In the meadows we used to wander through;
Still purl
The rivulets and curl
Towards the weirs with a musical swirl;
Haymakers
As in former years
Rake rolls into heaps that the pitchfork rears;
Wheels crack
On the turfy track
The waggon pursues with its toppling pack.
"Why then shun -
Since summer's not done -
All this because of the lack of one?"
Had you been
Sharer of that scene
You would not ask while it bites in keen
Why it is so
We can no more go
By the summer paths we used to know!
-o0o-
WAGTAIL AND BABY
A baby watched a ford, whereto
A wagtail came for drinking;
A blaring bull went wading through,
The wagtail showed no shrinking.
A stallion splashed his way across,
The birdie nearly sinking;
He gave his plumes a twitch and toss,
And held his own unblinking.
Next saw the baby round the spot
A mongrel slowly slinking;
The wagtail gazed, but faltered not
In dip and sip and prinking.
A perfect gentleman then neared;
The wagtail, in a winking,
With terror rose and disappeared;
The baby fell a-thinking.
-o0o-
No; no;
It must not be so:
They are the ways we do not go.
Still chew
The kine, and moo
In the meadows we used to wander through;
Still purl
The rivulets and curl
Towards the weirs with a musical swirl;
Haymakers
As in former years
Rake rolls into heaps that the pitchfork rears;
Wheels crack
On the turfy track
The waggon pursues with its toppling pack.
"Why then shun -
Since summer's not done -
All this because of the lack of one?"
Had you been
Sharer of that scene
You would not ask while it bites in keen
Why it is so
We can no more go
By the summer paths we used to know!
-o0o-
WAGTAIL AND BABY
A baby watched a ford, whereto
A wagtail came for drinking;
A blaring bull went wading through,
The wagtail showed no shrinking.
A stallion splashed his way across,
The birdie nearly sinking;
He gave his plumes a twitch and toss,
And held his own unblinking.
Next saw the baby round the spot
A mongrel slowly slinking;
The wagtail gazed, but faltered not
In dip and sip and prinking.
A perfect gentleman then neared;
The wagtail, in a winking,
With terror rose and disappeared;
The baby fell a-thinking.
-o0o-
THE GLIMPSE
She sped through the door
And, following in haste,
And stirred to the core,
I entered hot-faced;
But I could not find her,
No sign was behind her.
"Where is she?" I said:
"Who?" they asked that sat there;
"Not a soul's come in sight."
"A maid with red hair."
"Ah." They paled. "She is dead.
People see her at night,
But you are the first
On whom she has burst
In the keen common light."
It was ages ago,
When I was quite strong:
I have waited since, - O,
I have waited so long!
- Yea, I set me to own
The house, where now lone
I dwell in void rooms
Booming hollow as tombs!
But I never come near her,
Though nightly I hear her.
And my cheek has grown thin
And my hair has grown gray
With this waiting therein;
But she still keeps away!
She sped through the door
And, following in haste,
And stirred to the core,
I entered hot-faced;
But I could not find her,
No sign was behind her.
"Where is she?" I said:
"Who?" they asked that sat there;
"Not a soul's come in sight."
"A maid with red hair."
"Ah." They paled. "She is dead.
People see her at night,
But you are the first
On whom she has burst
In the keen common light."
It was ages ago,
When I was quite strong:
I have waited since, - O,
I have waited so long!
- Yea, I set me to own
The house, where now lone
I dwell in void rooms
Booming hollow as tombs!
But I never come near her,
Though nightly I hear her.
And my cheek has grown thin
And my hair has grown gray
With this waiting therein;
But she still keeps away!
-o0o-
THE OLD NEIGHBOUR AND THE NEW
Twas to greet the new rector I called I here,
But in the arm-chair I see
My old friend, for long years installed here,
Who palely nods to me.
The new man explains what he's planning
In a smart and cheerful tone,
And I listen, the while that I'm scanning
The figure behind his own.
The newcomer urges things on me;
I return a vague smile thereto,
The olden face gazing upon me
Just as it used to do!
And on leaving I scarcely remember
Which neighbour to-day I have seen,
The one carried out in September,
Or him who but entered yestreen.
But in the arm-chair I see
My old friend, for long years installed here,
Who palely nods to me.
The new man explains what he's planning
In a smart and cheerful tone,
And I listen, the while that I'm scanning
The figure behind his own.
The newcomer urges things on me;
I return a vague smile thereto,
The olden face gazing upon me
Just as it used to do!
And on leaving I scarcely remember
Which neighbour to-day I have seen,
The one carried out in September,
Or him who but entered yestreen.
-o0o-
BLOG NEWS :- "The Eternal Venus" blog comes to an end tomorrow and its place is taken by "My Own Selection of British Art of the 19th Century." The latter is a continuation of "My Own Selection of Pre-Raphaelite Paintings" with a new name and a much wider scope. The first post is on Saturday and the address is - http://myownselection.blogspot.com
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