A West-Country Lover Poem by Alice Brown

A West-Country Lover



Then, lady, at last thou art sick of my sighing.
   Good-bye!
So long as I sue, thou wilt still be denying?
   Good-bye!
Ah, well! shall I vow then to serve thee forever,
And swear no unkindness our kinship can sever?
Nay, nay, dear my lass! here's an end of endeavor.
   Good-bye!

Yet let no sweet ruth for my misery grieve thee.
   Good-bye!
The man who has loved knows as well how to leave thee.
   Good-bye!
The gorse is enkindled, there's bloom on the heather,
And love is my joy, but so too is fair weather;
I still ride abroad though we ride not together.
   Good-bye!

My horse is my mate; let the wind be my master.
   Good-bye!
Though Care may pursue, yet my hound follows faster.
   Good-bye!
The red deer's a-tremble in coverts unbroken.
He hears the hoof-thunder; he scents the death-token.
Shall I mope at home, under vows never spoken?
   Good-bye!

The brown earth's my book, and I ride forth to read it.
   Good-bye!
The stream runneth fast, but my will shall outspeed it.
   Good-bye!
I love thee, dear lass, but I hate the hag Sorrow.
As sun follows rain, and to-night has its morrow,
So I'll taste of joy, though I steal, beg, or borrow!
   Good-bye!

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