ii

Our lives creep on to change at last, And change is sudden coming; Rooted you see yourself and fast, And then be sent roaming. When I was come to twenty years, Home for a spell, Mother she brought a flush of tears With what she had to tell.

There was a fine new place for me Forty miles away— And where my dream of what might be One fine day? The farmer's wife she kiss'd me kindly When I was paid; But Ted and I said Goodbye blindly, And no more said.

No word between us of the thought That fill'd four years, No fond look caught by eyes well taught, Tho' thick with tears! 'Twas Goodbye, Nance, and Goodbye, Ted, And just a clasp of the hand: Maybe I'll write, he might have said For me to understand.

But poor people have need to work Whether merry or sad, Whatever groping thought do lurk, Whatever dreams they've had! I went my way and he kept his, I to the county town, He in a row of cottages Below the hump-backt down.