Page:Lollingdon Downs and other poems, Masefield, 1917.djvu/53

Rh They hanged Will

As Will said,

With one thrill

They choked him dead.

Jane walked the wold

Like a grey gander;

All grown old

She would wander.

She died soon.

At high tide

At full moon

Jane died.

The brook chatters

As at first,

The farm it waters

Is accurst;

No man takes it,

Nothing grows there,

Blood straiks it,

A ghost goes there.