Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE FAKENHAM GHOST, by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD Poet Analysis Poet's Biography First Line: The lawns were dry in euston park Last Line: Perhaps was just as true. Subject(s): Ghosts; Supernatural | ||||||||
THE lawns were dry in Euston park (Here truth inspires my tale), The lonely footpath, still and dark, Led over hill and dale. Benighted was an ancient dame, And fearful haste she made To join the Vale of Fakenham, And hail its willow shade. Her footsteps knew no idle stops, But followed faster still; And echoed to the darksome copse That whispered on the hill. Where clamorous rooks, yet scarcely hushed, Bespoke a peopled shade; And many a wing the foliage brushed And hovering circuits made. The dappled herd of grazing deer, That sought the shades by day, Now started from her path with fear, And gave the stranger way. Darker it grew, and darker fears Came o'er the troubled mind; When now, a short quick step she hears Come patting close behind. She turnedit stoptnought could she see Upon the gloomy plain! But, as she strove the Sprite to flee, She heard the same again. Now terror seized her quaking frame; For, where the path was bare, The trotting ghost kept on the same! She muttered many a prayer. Yet once again, amidst her fright, She tried what sight could do; When, through the cheating gloom of night, A monster stood in view. Regardless of whate'er she felt, It followed down the plain! She owned her sins, and down she knelt, And said her prayers again. Then on she sped, and hope grew strong, The white park-gate in view; Which pushing hard, so long it swung, That ghost and all passed through. Loud fell the gate against the post! Her heart-strings like to crack: For much she feared the grizzly ghost Would leap upon her back. Still on, pat, pat, the goblin went, As it had done before Her strength and resolution spent, She fainted at the door. Out came her husband, much surprised; Out came her daughter dear; Good-natured souls! all unadvised Of what they had to fear. The candle's gleam pierced through the night Some short space o'er the green; And there the little trotting Sprite Distinctly might be seen. An ass's foal had lost its dam Within the spacious park; And, simple as the playful lamb, Had followed in the dark. No Goblin he; no imp of sin; No crimes had e'er he known; They took the shaggy stranger in, And reared him as their own. His little hoofs would rattle round Upon the cottage floor; The matron learned to love the sound That frightened her before. A favourite the Ghost became, And 'twas his fate to thrive; And long he lived, and spread his fame, And kept the joke alive. For many a laugh went through the vale, And some conviction too; Each thought some other goblin tale, Perhaps was just as true. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN THE EVENINGS by LUCILLE CLIFTON THE MOTHS: 1. CIRCA 1582 by NORMAN DUBIE GHOSTS IN ENGLAND by ROBINSON JEFFERS THE GHOST OF DEACON BROWN by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON EN PASSANT by EDWIN ARLINGTON ROBINSON ADDRESS TO HIS NATIVE VALE by ROBERT BLOOMFIELD |
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