Bubbling and brightsome eyed!
But now—O never again.
She chose her bearers before she died
From her fancy-men.
Note.—It is, or was, a common custom in Wessex, and probably other country places, to prepare the mourning beside the death-bed, the dying person sometimes assisting, who also selects his or her bearers on such occasions.
“Coats” (line 7).—Old name for petticoats.
NEWS FOR HER MOTHER
I
One mile more is
Where your door is
Mother mine!—
Harvest’s coming,
Mills are strumming,
Apples fine,
And the cider made to-year will be as wine.
II
Yet, not viewing
What’s a-doing
Here around
Is it thrills me,
And so fills me
That I bound
Like a ball or leaf or lamb along the ground.
Tremble not now
At your lot now,
Silly soul!
Hosts have sped them
Quick to wed them,
Great and small,
Since the first two sighing half-hearts made a whole.