| |
| WHEN silver snow decks Susan’s clothes, | |
| And jewel hangs at th’ shepherd’s nose, 1 | |
| The blushing bank is all my care, | |
| With hearth so red, and walls so fair; | |
| ‘Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher, | 5 |
| The oaken log lay on the fire.’ | |
| The well-wash’d stools, a circling row, | |
| With lad and lass, how fair the show! | |
| The merry can of nut-brown ale, | |
| The laughing jest, the love-sick tale, | 10 |
| Till, tir’d of chat, the game begins. | |
| The lasses prick the lads with pins; | |
| Roger from Dolly twitch’d the stool, | |
| She, falling, kiss’d the ground, poor fool! | |
| She blush’d so red, with side-long glance | 15 |
| At hob-nail Dick, who griev’d the chance. | |
| But now for Blind man’s Buff they call; | |
| Of each encumbrance clear the hall— | |
| Jenny her silken ’kerchief folds, | |
| And blear-eyed Will the black lot holds. | 20 |
| Now laughing stops, with ‘Silence! hush!’ | |
| And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push. | |
| The Blind man’s arms, extended wide, | |
| Sam slips between:—‘O woe betide | |
| Thee, clumsy Will!’—but titt’ring Kate | 25 |
| Is penn’d up in the corner straight! | |
| And now Will’s eyes beheld the play; | |
| He thought his face was t’other way. | |
| ‘Now, Kitty, now! what chance hast thou, | |
| Roger so near thee!—Trips, I vow!’ | 30 |
| She catches him—then Roger ties | |
| His own head up—but not his eyes; | |
| For thro’ the slender cloth he sees, | |
| And runs at Sam, who slips with ease | |
| His clumsy hold; and, dodging round, | 35 |
| Sukey is tumbled on the ground!— | |
| ‘See what it is to play unfair! | |
| Where cheating is, there’s mischief there.’ | |
| But Roger still pursues the chase,— | |
| ‘He sees! he sees!’ cries, softly, Grace; | 40 |
| ‘O Roger, thou, unskill’d in art, | |
| Must, surer bound, go thro’ thy part! | |
| Now Kitty, pert, repeats the rimes, | |
| And Roger turns him round three times, | |
| Then pauses ere he starts—but Dick | 45 |
| Was mischief bent upon a trick; | |
| Down on his hands and knees he lay | |
| Directly in the Blind man’s way, | |
| Then cries out ‘Hem!’ Hodge heard, and ran | |
| With hood-wink’d chance—sure of his man; | 50 |
| But down he came.—Alas, how frail | |
| Our best of hopes, how soon they fail! | |
| With crimson drops he stains the ground; | |
| Confusion startles all around. | |
| Poor piteous Dick supports his head, | 55 |
| And fain would cure the hurt he made; | |
| But Kitty hasted with a key, | |
| And down his back they straight convey | |
| The cold relief; the blood is stay’d, | |
| And Hodge again holds up his head. | 60 |
| Such are the fortunes of the game, | |
| And those who play should stop the same | |
| By wholesome laws; such as all those | |
| Who on the blinded man impose | |
| Stand in his stead; as, long a-gone, | 65 |
| When men were first a nation grown, | |
| Lawless they liv’d, till wantonness | |
| And liberty began t’ increase, | |
| And one man lay in another’s way; | |
| Then laws were made to keep fair play. | 70 |
