Exmoor Verses II. Saturn

From my farm, from h'r farm Furtively we came. In either home a hearth was warm: We nursed a hungrier flame. Our feet were foul with mire, Our faces blind with mist; But all the night was naked fire About us where we kiss'd. To her farm, to my farm, Loathing we returned; Pale beneath a gallow's arm The planet Saturn burned.