Mary, Pity Women

You call yourself a man,
For all you used to swear
‘An leave me, as you can,
My certain shame to bear?
I ‘ear!  You do not care –
You done the worst you know.
I ‘ate you, grinnin’ there…
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

Nice while it lasted, an’ now it is over –
Tear out you ‘eart an’ good-bye to your lover!
What’s the use o’ grievin’ when the mother that bore you
(Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you?

It aren’t no false alarm,
The finish to your fun;
You – you ‘ave brung the ‘arm,
‘An I’m the ruined one;
‘An now you’ll off ‘an run
With some new fool in tow;
Your ‘eart?  You ‘aven’t none…
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

When a man is tired there is naught will bind ‘im;
All ‘e solemn promised ‘e will shove be’ind ‘im.
What’s the good o’ prayin’ for The Wrath to strike ‘im,
(Mary, pity women!) when the rest are like ‘im?

What ‘ope for me – or it?
What’s left for us to do?
I’ve walked with men a bit,
But this – this is you!
So ‘elp me Christ, it’s true!
Where can I ‘ide or go?
You coward, through an’ through!…
Ah, Gawd, I love you so!

All the more you give ’em the less are they for givin’!
Love lies dead, an’ you can not kiss ‘im livin’.
Down the road ‘e led you there is no returnin’,
(Mary, pity women!) but you’re late in learnin’.

You’d like to treat me fair?
You can’t, because we’re pore?
We’d starve?  What do I care!
We might, but this is shore:
I want the name – no more –
The name, an’ lines to show,
An’ not to be an ‘ore…
Ah, Gawd, I love so!

What’s the good o’ pleadin’, when the mother that bore you
(Mary, pity women!) knew it all before you?
Sleep on ‘is promises an’ wake to your sorrow,
(Mary, pity women!) for we sail tomorrow!

 

Eddi, Priest of St. Wilfrid
(originally titled Eddi’s Service)

Eddi, priest of St. Wilfrid
In his chapel at Manhood End,
Ordered a midnight service
For such as cared to attend.

But the Saxons were keeping Christmas,
And the night was stormy as well.
Nobody came to service,
Though Eddi rang the bell.

“Wicked weather for walking,”
Said Eddi of Manhood End.
“But I must go on with the service
For such as care to attend.”

The altar-lamps were lighted, —
An old marsh-donkey came,
Bold as a guest invited,
And stared at the guttering flame.

The storm beat on at the windows,
The water splashed on the floor,
And a wet, yoke-weary bullock
Pushed in through the open door.

“How do I know what is greatest,
How do I know what is least?
That is My Father’s business,”
Said Eddi, Wilfrid’s priest.

“But — three are gathered together —
Listen to me and attend.
I bring good news, my brethren!”
Said Eddi of Manhood End.

And he told the Ox of a Manger
And a Stall in Bethlehem,
And he spoke to the Ass of a Rider,
That rode to Jerusalem.

They steamed and dripped in the chancel,
They listened and never stirred,
While, just as though they were Bishops,
Eddi preached them The Word.

Till the gale blew off on the marshes
And the windows showed the day,
And the Ox and the Ass together
Wheeled and clattered away.

And when the Saxons mocked him,
Said Eddi of Manhood End,
“I dare not shut His chapel
On such as care to attend.”

 

Soldier, Soldier
(Stanza 4 omitted)

“Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Why don’t you march with my true love?”
“We’re fresh from off the ship an’ ‘e’s maybe give the slip,
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.”

New love!  True love!
Best go look for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an’ you’d better dry your eyes,
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.

“Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
What did you see o’ my true love?”
“I seed ‘im serve the Queen in a suit o’ rifle-green,
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.”

“Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Did aught take ‘arm to my true love?”
“I couldn’t see the fight, for the smoke it lay so white —
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.”

“Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
I’ll up an’ tend to my true love!”
“‘E’s lying on the dead with a bullet through ‘is ‘ead,
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.”

“Soldier, soldier, come from the wars,
I’ll down an’ die with my true love!”
“The pit we dug’ll ‘ide ‘im an’ the twenty men beside ‘im —
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.”

“Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
Do you bring no sign from my true love?”
“I bring a lock of ‘air that ‘e allus used to wear,
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.”

“Soldier, soldier come from the wars,
O then I know it’s true I’ve lost my true love!”
“An’ I tell you truth again — when you’ve lost the feel o’ pain
You’d best take me for your true love.”

True love!  New love!
Best go look for a new love,
The dead they cannot rise, an’ you’d better dry your eyes,
An’ you’d best go look for a new love.