The Widow in the Bye Street

by John Masefield

Beyond, the mild cathedral bells were ringing,

The elm-tree rooks were cawing at the springing:

O beauty of the time when winter's done,

And all the fields are laughing at the sun!

'I s'pose they've brought the line beyond the Knapp?'

'Ah, and beyond the Barcle, so they say.'

'Hearing the rooks begin reminds a chap.

Look queer, the street will, with the lock away;

O God, I'll never see it.' 'Let us pray.

Don't think of that, but think,' the mother said,