"Across the Fields to Anne" 'Tis quare the way I'll hear his voice, An' whiles I'll see him stand as plain Och, never fear, my jewel! O' the way I should begin it; Meself began the night ye went I'm nearly fit to give it up, For where's the use to fret? An' the memory's fairly spoilt on me Wid mindin' to forget. 801 Moira O'Neill (18 "ACROSS THE FIELDS TO ANNE". How often in the summer-tide, His graver business set aside, Has stripling Will, the thoughtful-eyed, Stepped blithesomely with lover's pride It must have been a merry mile, The silly sheep that graze to-day, I wot, they let him go his way, Nor once looked up, as who would say: "It is a seemly man." For many lads went wooing aye Across the fields to Anne. The oaks, they have a wiser look; Though now he fleets like any rook And I am sure, that on some hour And bore it as a lover's dower While from her cottage garden-bed The winding path whereon I pace, The hedgerows green, the summer's grace, Are still before me face to face; Methinks I almost can Turn port and join the singing race Across the fields to Anne. Richard Burton [1859 PAMELA IN TOWN THE fair Pamela came to town, To London town, in early summer; And up and down and round about The beaux discussed the bright newcomer, With "Gadzooks, sir," and "Ma'am, my duty," And "Odds my life, but 'tis a Beauty!" To Ranelagh went Mistress Pam, Sweet Mistress Pam so fair and merry, With cheeks of cream and roses blent, With voice of lark and lip of cherry. Pamela in Town Then all the beaux vowed 'twas their duty And first Frank Lovelace tried his wit, Cold grew the charming fair and colder. Then Jack Carew his arts essayed, With honeyed sighs and feigned weeping. That pretty Pam she wore a-sleeping. Then Cousin Will came up to view Alack! one night at Ranelagh The pretty Sly-boots fell a-blushing; To dance with Pam a saltarello. Then Jack and Frank and Will resolved, But who that saw Pam's eyes a-shining And-oons! Their wrath cooled as they looked That Poet stared as fierce as any! He was a mighty proper man, With blade on hip and inches many; The beaux all vowed it was their duty Sweet Pam she bridled, blushed and smiled- Pamela and her grizzled Poct. YES? Is it true, then, my girl, that you mean it— Does that hour seem so sweet now between it Have you woke from a moment of rapture And to hate, perchance, him who has trapped your Who was he, last evening-this fellow Whose audacity lent him a charm? Have you promised to wed Pulchinello? For life taking Figaro's arm? Will you have the Court fool of the papers, Who earns his scant bread by his capers, To be your heart's king? When we met quite by chance at the theatre I'd no thought, love, that mischief would be at her That I should forget fate and fortune Make a difference 'twixt Sèvres and delfThat I'd have the calm nerve to importune You, sweet, for yourself. The Prime of Life It's appalling, by Jove, the audacious But you you grew suddenly gracious, I surprised you, poor child, I dare say, You're released! With some wooer replace me From the tablet of memory efface me, If you don't mean your Yes of last night. In my birthplace and graveyard, Bohemia- 805 Henry Cuyler Bunner (1855-1896] THE PRIME OF LIFE JUST as I thought I was growing old, To watch the world with a heart grown cold, Rose came by with a smile for me, And I am thinking that forty year Isn't the age that it seems to be, When two pretty brown eyes are near. Bless me! of life it is just the prime, A fact that I hope she will understand; And forty year is a perfect rhyme To dark brown eyes and a pretty hand. These gray hairs are by chance, you see- Rose came by with a smile for me, Just as I thought I was getting old. Walter Learned [1847-1915] |