Page:Collected poems vol 1 de la mare.djvu/224


 * EVER, no never, listen too long,

To the chattering wind in the willow, the night
 * bird's song.


 * 'Tis sad in sooth to lie under the grass,

But none too gladsome to wake and grow cold
 * where life's shadows pass.


 * Dumb the old Toll-Woman squats,

And, for every green copper battered and worn,
 * doles out Nevers and Nots.


 * I know a Blind Man, too,

Who with a sharp ear listens and listens the whole
 * world through.


 * Oh, sit we snug to our feast.

With platter and finger and spoon — and good
 * victuals at least.