The Courtship (I)

Where are you going lovely maid
The morning fine & early
I’m going to Walkerd Sir she said
& made across the barley

Her neck a thumb & finger span
Her bosom swelling over
Her waist was half the vulgar kind
An armful for a lover

I asked her name she blushed away
The question seemed to burn her
A neighbour came & passed the day
& called her Patty Turner

She led me on a pleasant way
Through fields when brown & fallow
Dear Walkerd lay upon the hill
& Stamford in the hollow

I see the oak agen the door
The wood agen the garden
I bade good bye she turned agen
With smiles my look rewarding



Lionel Little said...

A poem that gives another tantalising glimpse into Clare's life.
And the grid reference of Walkerd is? Her name's real, so is the place? I can't find it on the map and Google earth doesn't know it.

Roger R. said...

Lionel... look at my posting of the 12th February 2008. All the information is there, including a 'google earth' photo.

Roger R.

Lionel Little said...

Thanks Roger. All sorted, now roll on July!