Classic and Contemporary Poetry
AWAY TO THE FAIR, by JOSEPH SKIPSEY 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? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE FESTIVAL OF GIOVEDI GRASSO by MATTHEA HARVEY I DEFINE THE DARKNESS CORRECT: THE FESTIVAL OF THE FRERES LUMIERES by ELENI SIKELIANOS THE DANCE (2) by WILLIAM CARLOS WILLIAMS AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 1. THE BALLAD-SINGER by THOMAS HARDY AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 2. FORMER BEAUTIES by THOMAS HARDY AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 3. AFTER THE CLUB-DANCE by THOMAS HARDY AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 4. THE MARKET-GIRL by THOMAS HARDY AT CASTERBRIDGE FAIR: 5. THE INQUIRY by THOMAS HARDY |
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