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Frederick
George Scott
COLLECTED
POEMS
Lovelorn
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Love met a swain that drove his load,
When evening shades were
falling,
And in the trees above the road
The rooks were loudly calling.
He sauntered by his lumbering cart,
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A
simple swain and burly,
Ill formed to play a lover’s part,
His manners coarse and
surly.
He
did not see the autumn gold
That strewed the leafy
alley,
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10 |
He
cared not for the tints untold
That lit the sunset valley.
His buskins were all grey with dust,
His smock was black and
gritty;
Though in his mouth a pipe was thrust,
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15 |
He
hummed a country ditty.
‘Good morrow, gentle sir,’ said Love,
‘I fear you’ll
count me stupid,’
(The rooks laughed in the trees above—
They knew the voice
of Cupid).
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‘I’ve lost my way, good sir, to-night,
And don’t know where
to find it;
You see that hill that fades from sight,
My house lies just behind
it.
‘O, good sir, as your heart is true,
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25 |
Take
pity on my sorrow;
Let me to-night go home with you,
And I will leave to-morrow.’
The swain, content a friend to see,
Though wishing he were older,
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30 |
‘Get
up, my little man,’ quoth he,
And perched him on his shoulder.
[Page 112]
Ah me! how sweet that evening walk,
With young Love softly smiling
Upon his arm, and with fair talk
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35 |
The
weary hours beguiling.
Poor swain, he saw with wondering eyes
The valley filled with splendour,
And in the love-light of the skies
His heart grew soft and
tender.
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40 |
But on the morrow Love had gone,
Since then he comes back
never;
The simple heart he rested on
Now aches and aches for
ever. [Page 113]
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