Of even, by the lonely threshing-floor, Rejoicing in the harvest and the grange. Yet I, Earth-Goddess, am but ill. content With them, who still are highest. Those gray heads, What meant they by their "Fate beyond the Fates" But younger kindlier Gods to bear us down, As we bore down the Gods before us? Gods, To quench, not hurl the thunderbolt, to stay, Not spread the plague, the famine; Gods indeed, To send the noon into the night and break The sunless halls of Hades into Heaven? Till thy dark lord accept and love the Sun, And all the Shadow die into the Light, When thou shalt dwell the whole bright year with me, And souls of men, who grew beyond their race, And made themselves as Gods against the fear Of Death and Hell; and thou that hast from men, As Queen of Death, that worship which is Fear, Henceforth, as having risen from out the dead, Shalt eversend thy life along with mine From buried grain thro' springing blade, and bless Their garner'd Autumn also, reap with me, Earth-mother, in the harvest hymns of Earth The worship which is Love, and see no more The Stone, the Wheel, the dimly. glimmering lawns Of that Elysium, all the hateful fires Of torment, and the shadowy warrior glide Along the silent field of Asphodel. OWD ROÄ.1 NAÄr, noä mander2 o use to be callin’ ’m Roä, Roä, Roä, Fo' the dog's stoän-deäf, an' e's blind, 'e can neither stan' nor goä. But I meäns fur to maäke 'is owd aäge as 'appy as iver I can, Thou's rode of 'is back when a babby, afoor thou was gotten too owd, Eh, but 'e'd fight wi' a will when 'e fowt; 'e could howd 'is oan, An' 'e kep his head hoop like a king, an' 'e'd niver not down wi' 'is täail, Fur 'e'd niver done nowt to be shäamed on, when we was i' Howlaby Daäle. An' 'e sarved me sa well when 'e lived, that, Dick, when 'e cooms to be dead, I thinks as I'd like fur to hev soom soort of a sarvice reäd. Fur 'e's moor good sense na the Parliament man 'at stans fur us 'ere, An' I'd voät fur 'im, my oän sen, if 'e could but stan fur the Shere. "Faäithful an' True - them words be 'Scriptur-an' Faäithful an' True Ull be fun' upo' four short legs ten times fur one upo' two. An' maäybe they'll walk upo' two but I knaws they runs upo' four,5- Fur I wants to tell tha o' Roä when we lived i' Howlaby Daäle, An' the Keagle 'as hed two heäds stannin' theere o' the brokken stick;9 An' theere i' the 'ouse one night—but it's down, an' all on it now Of a Christmas Eäve, an' as cowd as this, an' the midders 1 as white, An' the cat wur a-sleeäpin alongside Roäver, but I wur awaäke, Doänt maäke thysen sick wi' the caäke. Fur the men ater supper 'ed sung their songs an' 'ed 'ed their beer, An' 'ed goän their waäys; ther was nobbut three, an' noän on 'em theere. They was all on 'em fear'd o' the Ghoäst an' dussn't not sleeäp i' the 'ouse, But Dicky, the Ghoäst moästlins" was nobbut a rat or a mouse. An' I looökt out wonst at the night, an' the daäle was all of a thaw, An' I heard greät heäps o' the snaw slushin' down fro' the bank to the beck, An' then as I stood i' the doorwaäy, I feeäld it drip o' my neck. Saw I turn'd in ageän, an' I thowt o' the good owd times 'at was goan, Fur I thowt if the Staäte was a gawin' to let in furriners wheät, Howiver was I fur to find my rent an' to paäy my men? Thou slep i' the chaumber above us, we couldn't ha' 'eärd tha call, An' 'e says "can ya paäy me the rent to-night?" an' I says to 'im " Noä," "Tha'll niver," says I, "be a-turnin ma hout upo' Christmas Eäve?" An' I thowt as 'e'd goän cleän-wud,7 fur I noäwaeys knaw'd 'is intent; 1 Meadows. ▲ Once. 2 Drifted snow. 3 "Moästlins," for the most part, generally. An' I slep' i' my chair ageän wi' my hairm hingin' down to the floor, An' I thowt 'at I kick'd 'im ageän, but I kick'd thy Moother istead. "What arta snorin' theere fur? the house is afire," she said. Thy Moother 'ed beän a-naggin' about the gell o' the farm, She offens 'ud spy summut wrong when there warn't not a mossel o' harm; An' she didn't not solidly meän I wur gawin' that waäy to the bad, But Moother was free of 'er tongue, as I offens 'ev tei'd 'er mysen, “Ya mun run fur the lether. Git oop, if ya're onywaäys good for owt." And I says "If I beänt noäwaäys —not nowadaäys - good fur nowt "Yit I beänt sich a Nowt 4 of all Nowts as 'ull hallus do as 'e's bid." "But the stairs is afire," she said; then I seed 'er a-cryin', I did. An' she beäld “Ya mun saäve little Dick, an' be sharp about it an' all," An' I claums an' I mashes the winder hin, when I gits to the top, Thy Moother was howdin' the lether, an' tellin' me not to be skeärd, But I couldn't see for the smoäke wheere thou was a-liggin, my lad, Then I call'd out Roä, Roä, Roä, thaw I didn't haäfe think as 'e'd 'ear, He coom'd like a Hangel o' marcy as soon as 'e 'eärd 'is naäme, When summun 'ed hax'd fur a son, an' 'e promised a son to she, 1 The girl was as dirty a slut as ever trudged in the mud, but there is a sense of slatternk ness in "traäpes'd" which is not expressed in "trudged." 2 She half overturned me and shrieked like an owl gone mad. A thoroughly insignificant or worthless person. 3 Ladder. 5 Mark. 3 |