Yes, from their door by Mill-tail-Shallow,
And up Styles-Lane, and by Front-Street houses,
Where stood maids, bachelors, and spouses,
Who cheered the songs that we knew how to play.

I bowed the treble before her father,
Michael the tenor in front of the lady,
The bass-viol Reub—­and right well played he! —
The serpent Jim; ay, to church and back.

I thought the bridegroom was flurried rather,
As we kept up the tune outside the chancel,
While they were swearing things none can cancel
Inside the walls to our drumstick’s whack.

“Too gay!” she pleaded.  “Clouds may gather,
And sorrow come.”  But she gave in, laughing,
And by supper-time when we’d got to the quaffing
Her fears were forgot, and her smiles weren’t slack.

A grand wedding ’twas!  And what would follow
We never thought.  Or that we should have buried her
On the same day with the man that married her,
A day like the first, half hazy, half clear.

Yes:  little fogs were in every hollow,
Though the purple hillocks enjoyed fine weather,
When we went to play ’em to church together,
And carried ’em there in an after year.

FIRST OR LAST (SONG)

   If grief come early
   Joy comes late,
   If joy come early
   Grief will wait;
      Aye, my dear and tender!

Wise ones joy them early
While the cheeks are red,
Banish grief till surly
Time has dulled their dread.

   And joy being ours
   Ere youth has flown,
   The later hours
   May find us gone;
      Aye, my dear and tender!

LONELY DAYS

Lonely her fate was,
Environed from sight
In the house where the gate was
Past finding at night. 
None there to share it,
No one to tell: 
Long she’d to bear it,
And bore it well.

Elsewhere just so she
Spent many a day;
Wishing to go she
Continued to stay. 
And people without
Basked warm in the air,
But none sought her out,
Or knew she was there. 
Even birthdays were passed so,
Sunny and shady: 
Years did it last so
For this sad lady. 
Never declaring it,
No one to tell,
Still she kept bearing it —
Bore it well.

The days grew chillier,
And then she went
To a city, familiar
In years forespent,
When she walked gaily
Far to and fro,
But now, moving frailly,
Could nowhere go. 
The cheerful colour
Of houses she’d known
Had died to a duller
And dingier tone. 
Streets were now noisy
Where once had rolled
A few quiet coaches,
Or citizens strolled. 
Through the party-wall
Of the memoried spot
They danced at a ball
Who recalled her not. 
Tramlines lay crossing
Once gravelled slopes,
Metal rods clanked,
And electric ropes. 
So she endured it all,
Thin, thinner wrought,
Until time cured it all,
And she knew nought.