Now the furnaces are out, And the aching anvils sleep; Down the road the grimy rout Tramples homeward twenty deep. Piper, play! Piper, play! Though we be o'erlabored men, Ripe for rest, pipe your best! Let us foot it once again! Bridled looms delay their din; All the humming wheels are spent; Busy spindles cease to spin; Warp and woof must rest content. Piper, play! Piper, play! For a little we are free! Foot it, girls, and shake your curls, Haggard creatures though we be! Racked and soiled the faded air Freshens in our holiday; Clouds and tides our respite share; Breezes linger by the way. Piper, rest! Piper, rest! Now, a carol of the moon! Piper, piper, play your best! Melt the sun into your tune! We are of the humblest grade; Yet we dare to dance our fill: Male and female were we made, — Fathers, mothers, lovers still! Piper, softly; — soft and low; Pipe of love in mellow notes, Till the tears begin to flow, And our hearts are in our throats! Nameless as the stars of night Far in galaxies unfurled, Yet we yield unrivalled might, Joints and hinges of the world! Night and day! night and day! Sound the song the hours rehearse! Work and play! work and play! The order of the universe! Now the furnaces are out, And the aching anvils sleep; Down the road a merry rout Dances homeward, twenty deep. Piper, play! Piper, play! Wearied people though we be, Ripe for rest, pipe your best! For a little we are free! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SORROWING LOVE by KATHERINE MANSFIELD OUR GOOD PRESIDENT by PHOEBE CARY GOOD FRIDAY, 1613. RIDING WESTWARD by JOHN DONNE AN INTERNATIONAL EPISODE (1889) by CAROLINE KING DUER SEVEN TIMES FOUR [ - MATERNITY] by JEAN INGELOW LILIES: 1. THE GREAT WAVE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) OLD HOMES by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |