THE FIRST QUARREL (IN THE ISLE OF WIGHT) This poem, founded on fact (Memoir,' vol. ii. p. 249), was first published in the Ballads,' 1880; as were the poems that follow, unless otherwise stated in the prefatory notes. I 'WAIT a little,' you say, 'you are sure it'll all come right,' But the boy was born i' trouble, an' looks so wan an' so white; Wait! an' once I ha' waited I had n't to wait for long. Now I wait, wait, wait for Harry. - No, no, you are doing me wrong! Harry and I were married; the boy can hold up his head, The boy was born in wedlock, but after my man was dead; I ha work'd for him fifteen years, an' I work an' I wait to the end. I am all alone in the world, an' you are my only friend. VI - and 20 Nay for it's kind of you, madam, to sit by an old dying wife. But say nothing hard of my boy, I have only an hour of life. I kiss'd my boy in the prison, before he went out to die. 'They dared me to do it,' he said, and he never has told me a lie. I whipt him for robbing an orchard once when he was but a child'The farmer dared me to do it,' he said; he was always so wild And idle and could n't be idle - my Willy- he never could rest. The King should have made him a soldier, he would have been one of his best. Sin? O, yes, we are sinners, I know — let all that be, 60 And read me a Bible verse of the Lord's goodwill toward men — Full of compassion and mercy, the Lord' let me hear it again; 'Full of compassion and mercy — long-suf- For the lawyer is born but to murder And the first may be last-I have heard first. Suffering-O, long-suffering - yes, as the Lord must know, Year after year in the mist and the wind and the shower and the snow. think that I care for my soul if my boy be gone to the fire? I can't dig deep, I am old — in the night I have been with God in the dark - My Willy 'ill rise up whole when the trum- XIII They would scratch him up— they would hang him again on the cursed tree. you may leave me alone You never have borne a childjust as hard as a stone. XVII - go, go, you are 80 Madam, I beg your pardon! I think that But I cannot hear what you say for my 456 WAÄIT till our Sally cooms in, fur thou mun a' sights to tell. Eh, but I be maäin glad to seeä tha sa 'arty an' well. 'Cast awaäy on a disolut land wi' a vartical soon 2!' Strange fur to goä fur to think what saäilors a' seëan an' a' doon; 'Summat to drink- sa 'ot?' I 'a nowt but Adam's wine: What's the 'eät o' this little 'ill-side to the 'eät o' the line? Meä an' thy sister was married, when wur it? back-end o' June, Ten year sin', and wa 'greed as well as a fiddle i' tune. I could fettle and clump owd booöts and shoes wi' the best on 'em all, 1 The vowels aï, pronounced separately though in the closest conjunction, best render the sound of the long i and y in this dialect. But since such words as craïin', daïin', whaï, aï (I), etc., look awkward except in a page of express phonetics, I have thought it better to leave the simple i and y, and to trust that my readers will give them the broader pronunciation. 2 The oo short, as in 'wood.' As fer as fro' Thursby thurn hup to Harmsby and Hutterby Hall. We was busy as beeäs i' the bloom an' as 'appy as 'art could think, An' then the babby wur burn, and then I taäkes to the drink. IV An' I weänt gaäinsaäy it, my lad, thaw I be hafe shaämed on it now, We could sing a good song at the Plow, we could sing a good song at the Plow Thaw once of a frosty night I slither'd an' hurted my huck,1 20 An' I coom'd neck-an-crop soomtimes slaäpe down i' the squad an' the muck: An' once I fowt wi' the taäilor-not hafe ov a man, my lad Fur be scrawm'd an' scratted my faäce like a cat, an' it maäde 'er sa mad That Sally she turn'd a tongue-banger, an' raäted ma, 'Sottin' thy braäins Guzzlin' an' soäkin' an' smoäkin' an' hawmin' about i' the laänes, Soä sow-droonk that tha doesn not touch thy 'at to the Squire;' An' I loook'd cock-eyed at my noäse an' I seead 'im a-gittin' o' fire; But sin' I wur hallus i' liquor an' hallus as droonk as a king, Foälks' coostom fitted awaäy like a kite wi' a brokken string. |