So a while they laughed together;
Then he rose and with a frown
Sighed, “While still ’tis pleasant weather,
I must leave thee, Low-lie-down.”
So away rode Harum-Scarum,
With a song rode out of town;
At the Sign o’ the Jug-and-Jorum
Weeping lingered Low-lie-down.
Then this John-a-dreams, in tatters,
In his pocket ne’er a crown,
Touched her saying, “Wench, what matters!
Dry your eyes and, come, sit down.
“Here’s my hand: we’ll roam together,
Far away from thorp and town.
Here’s my heart,—for any weather,—
And my dreams, too, Low-lie-down.
“Some men call me dreamer, poet:
Some men call me fool and clown—
What I am but you shall know it,
Only you, sweet Low-lie-down.”
For a little while she pondered:
Smiled: then said, “Let care go drown!”
Rose and kissed him.... Forth they wandered,
John-a-dreams and Low-lie-down.
VAGABONDS
I
It’s ho, it’s ho! when haw-trees blow
Among the hills that Springtime thrills;
When huckleberries, row on row,
Hang out their blossom-bells of snow
Around the rills that music fills:
When haw-trees blow among the hills,
It’s ho, it’s ho! oh let us go,
My love and I, where fancy wills.