Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, AWAY TO THE FAIR, by JOSEPH SKIPSEY



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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

AWAY TO THE FAIR, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: Away to the fair my lad did repair
Last Line: Willie comes not from the fair?
Subject(s): Fear; Festivals; Love; Waiting; Fairs; Pageants


Away to the Fair my lad did repair
Ere day had the welkin adorned;
Now day's glidden by and night's in the sky,
And he has never returned:
Now day's glidden by, coal-black is the sky,
And tho' a dead calm's in the air,
O'er mountain and plain a storm brews amain —
And Willie comes not from the Fair.

Chorus — O dear, what can the matter be?
O dear, what can the matter be?
Dear, dear, what can the matter be
Willie comes not from the Fair?

Came Tam cap a-gley with Robin, and he
But nodded to Bell o'er the way;
And Robin did call on Tib at the Hall,
But naught of his neighbour did say:
And Allie went by, a laugh in his eye
For Meg of the Colliree Square;
But never a word of Willie was heard —
And Willie comes not from the Fair.

Chorus — O, dear, etc.

I ended my wark while lilted the lark
"Tere-lere" to his grass-hidden mate;
And drest in my best, a rose in my breast,
I've waited his coming — and wait:
The door set ajar, the fire I stir,
And, often combing my hair,
I hark for the beat of two merry feet —
But Willie comes not from the Fair.

Chorus — O dear, etc.

"What ails the jewel?" my mother cries;
"Ye're white as the cap on your head;"
"An imp's in the lass," my father replies;
"Let her be off to her bed."
Atween hearth and door, I wander the floor,
Deaf to their bidding and prayer;
And halt but to keek in the storm-rock'd night —
But Willie comes not from the Fair.

Chorus — O dear, etc.

Now fear fills the house. Some shriek from affright,
The dog howls aloud by the hearth;
For runnels of fire do flash thro' the night,
And deep thunder growls shake the earth:
On high, at each growl, "Tu-whit," cries the owl;
"Tu-whoo!" while the windows declare,
In terrific screams, how the fierce rain teems —
And Willie's not come from the Fair.

Chorus — O dear, etc.

Away dies the storm, and up peers the moon
To brighten a cloud black as death,
While a clear cock-crow succeeds to the tune,
The storm piped the while he had breath:
Now sleeps the whole house, save cricket and mouse;
I oft to the window repair,
And start at each sound: but the hours go round —
And Willie comes not from the Fair.

Chorus — O dear, etc.

The night weareth old, to bed I must go,
But neither to slumber nor rest;
The thought of my lad the weary night, so
Will pierce like a thorn in my breast:
But up with the lark, to granny's I'll down,
For if he's arrived he'll be there;
And if he is not, I'll off to the town
And seek for him all thro' the Fair.

Chorus — O dear, what can the matter be?
O dear, what can the matter be?
Dear, dear, what can the matter be
Willie comes not from the Fair?





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