_GRUFFLY growled the wind on Toller downland broad and bare_,
_And lonesome was the house_, _and dark_; _and few came there_.
“Now don’t ye rub your eyes so red; we’re home and have no cares;
Here’s a skimmer-cake for supper, peckled onions, and some pears;
I’ve got a little keg o’ summat strong, too, under stairs:
—What, slight your husband’s victuals? Other brides can tackle
theirs!”
_The wind of winter mooed and mouthed their chimney like a horn_,
_And round the house and past the house ’twas leafless and lorn_.
“But my dear and tender poppet, then, how came ye to agree
In Ivel church this morning? Sure, there-right you married me!”
—“Hoo-hoo!—I don’t know—I forgot how strange and far ’twould be,
An’ I wish I was at home again with dear daddee!”
_Gruffly growled the wind on Toller downland broad and bare_,
_And lonesome was the house and dark_; _and few came there_.
“I didn’t think such furniture as this was all you’d own,
And great black beams for ceiling, and a floor o’ wretched stone,
And nasty pewter platters, horrid forks of steel and bone,
And a monstrous crock in chimney. ’Twas to me quite unbeknown!”
_Rattle rattle went the door_; _down flapped a cloud of smoke_,
_As shifting north the wicked wind assayed a smarter stroke_.
“Now sit ye by the fire, poppet; put yourself at ease:
And keep your little thumb out of your mouth, dear, please!
And I’ll sing to ’ee a pretty song of lovely flowers and bees,
And happy lovers taking walks within a grove o’ trees.”
_Gruffly growled the wind on Toller Down_, _so bleak and bare_,
_And lonesome was the house_, _and dark_; _and few came there_.
“Now, don’t ye gnaw your handkercher; ’twill hurt your little tongue,
And if you do feel spitish, ’tis because ye are over young;
But you’ll be getting older, like us all, ere very long,
And you’ll see me as I am—a man who never did ’ee wrong.”
_Straight from Whit’sheet Hill to Benvill Lane the blusters pass_,
_Hitting hedges_, _milestones_, _handposts_, _trees_, _and tufts of
grass_.
“Well, had I only known, my dear, that this was how you’d be,
I’d have married her of riper years that was so fond of me.
But since I can’t, I’ve half a mind to run away to sea,
And leave ’ee to go barefoot to your d—d daddee!”
_Up one wall and down the other—past each window-pane—_
_Prance the gusts_, _and then away down Crimmercrock’s long lane_.
“I—I—don’t know what to say to’t, since your wife I’ve vowed to be;
And as ’tis done, I s’pose here I must bide—poor me!
Aye—as you are ki-ki-kind, I’ll try to live along with ’ee,
Although I’d fain have stayed at home with dear daddee!”
_Gruffly growled the wind on Toller Down_, _so bleak and bare_,
_And lonesome was the house and dark_; _and few came there_.
“That’s right, my Heart! And though on haunted Toller Down we be,
And the wind swears things in chimley, we’ll to supper merrily!
So don’t ye tap your shoe so pettish-like; but smile at me,
And ye’ll soon forget to sock and sigh for dear daddee!”
_December_ 1901.