The Workhouse

Rural Evening (excerpt)

While at the parish cottage walld wi dirt
Were all the cumbergrounds of life resort
From the low door that bows two props between
Some feeble tottering dame surveys the scene
By them reminded of the long lost day
When she her self was young & went to play
& turning to the painfull scenes agen
The mournfull changes she has met since then
Her aching heart the contrast moves so keen
Een sighs a wish that life had never been

& vainly sinning while she strives to pray
Half smotherd discontent pursues its way

In wispering providence how blest shed been
If lifes last troubles shed escapd unseen
If ere want sneakd for grudgd support from pride
Shed only shard of childhoods joys & dyd
& as to talk some passing neighbours stand
& shoves their box within her tottering hand
She turns from echos of her younger years
& nips the portion of her snuff wi tears

(lines 137-156)

Chapbook No.23 was published on the 2nd April 2022, 

price £5 inclusive of P&P.

Drop me a line : arborfield (at) pm (dot) me

There’s a little odd house by the side of the Lane

Theres a little odd house by the side of the Lane

Where the daisy smiles sweet in the spring

Where the morning sun glitters like gold on the pane

& the hedge Sparrow trembles his wing

Where chaffinch green linnet & Sparrows have tones

That make the green Lane & the cottage their own

The sparrows they chirp & make nests i' the eaves

The chaffinch sings ‘pink’ in the hedge o' white thorn

That fences the garden & there the bird weaves

A nest of grey lichen soon as light i' the morn

& there bonny Susan will sit at the door

& see the green linnet at work at its nest

Where the robin flyes in for a crumb on the floor

& seems as if longing to sit on her breast