Where are you going lovely maidThe 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
(tbc)
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3 comments:
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.
Lionel... look at my posting of the 12th February 2008. All the information is there, including a 'google earth' photo.
Roger R.
Thanks Roger. All sorted, now roll on July!
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