Ruttendell, V

Up on a hill, about three furlongs off, The stable-boy (not far from being a dwarf) Was sent by Jane, and caution’d how to raise And wave on high a strip of scarlet baize, So soon as he beheld his master’s chaise. (A beacon-signal to the anxious Jane, Whilst she sat peeping through the window pane; For on this hill a distant view arose Of the high-road, ’long which the traveller goes When journeying to and fro near Ruttendell.) Jane saw the streamer rais’d! then knew full well Her lover soon would be within her sight; She wept for joy, so great was her delight. The south-west breeze bore up the greenwood vale The chaise’s rattle,—thanks to the sweet gale: An instant more the whistling whip was heard: Jane look’d, and lo! across the grassy sward She saw the moving mass advancing swift;— No longer of her love is she bereft! (Dear Mistress Toogood fired her aged breast; And, venturing forth to meet the lordly guest Beneath the portico,—dress, “bishop-sleeved,”— Bestowed her saintly blessings; thus relieved Her dear old heart of two years’ sobs and sighs; Yet even then she scarce believed her eyes, For seventy years and five had made them dim; But when she heard his voice she knew ’twas him!)