The Carpenter's Son

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1. The Winds Out of the West Land Blow The winds out of the west land blow, My friends have breathed them there; Warm with the blood of lads I know Comes east the sighing air. It fanned their temples, filled their lungs, Scattered their forelocks free; My friends made words of it with tongues That talk no more to me. Their voices, dying […]...
2. The Lads in Their Hundreds The lads in their hundreds to Ludlow come in for the fair, There’s men from the barn and the forge and the mill and the fold, The lads for the girls and the lads for the liquor are there, And there with the rest are the lads that will never be old. There’s chaps from […]...
3. The Hangman at Home WHAT does the hangman think about When he goes home at night from work? When he sits down with his wife and Children for a cup of coffee and a Plate of ham and eggs, do they ask Him if it was a good day’s work And everything went well or do they Stay off […]...
4. A Song 1 COME, I will make the continent indissoluble; I will make the most splendid race the sun ever yet shone upon; I will make divine magnetic lands, With the love of comrades, With the life-long love of comrades. 2 I will plant companionship thick as trees along all the rivers of America, and along the […]...
5. On Moonlit Heath and Lonesome Bank On moonlit heath and lonesome bank The sheep beside me graze; And yon the gallows used to clank Fast by the four cross ways. A careless shepherd once would keep The flocks by moonlight there, * And high amongst the glimmering sheep The dead man stood on air. They hang us now in Shrewsbury jail: […]...
6. The Tunnel Toil’s a tunnel, there’s no way out For fellows, the like o’ me; A beggar wi’ only a crust an’ a clout At the worst o’ the worst is free; But I work to eat, an’ I eat to work; It’s always the same old round, And I dassent fail for the day I shirk […]...
7. Letter To My Wife 11-11-1933 Bursa Prison My one and only! Your last letter says: “My head is throbbing, my heart is stunned!” You say: “If they hang you, if I lose you, I’ll die!” You’ll live, my dear My memory will vanish like black smoke in the wind. Of course you’ll live, red-haired lady of my heart: In […]...
8. 1887 From Clee to heaven the beacon burns, The shires have seen it plain, From north and south the sign returns And beacons burn again. Look left, look right, the hills are bright, The dales are light between, Because ’tis fifty years to-night That God has saved the Queen. Now, when the flame they watch not […]...
9. On My Birthday, July 21 I, MY dear, was born to-day So all my jolly comrades say: They bring me music, wreaths, and mirth, And ask to celebrate my birth: Little, alas! my comrades know That I was born to pain and woe; To thy denial, to thy scorn, Better I had ne’er been born: I wish to die, even […]...
10. On the Idle Hill of Summer On the idle hill of summer, Sleepy with the flow of streams, Far I hear the steady drummer Drumming like a noise in dreams. Far and near and low and louder On the roads of earth go by, Dear to friends and food for powder, Soldiers marching, all to die. East and west on fields […]...
11. The Thieves Lovers in the act despense With such meum-tuum sense As might warningly reveal What they must not pick or steal, And their nostrum is to say: ‘I and you are both away.’ After, when they disentwine You from me and yours from mine, Neither can be certain who Was that I whose mine was you. […]...
12. The Haymakers' Song HERE’S to him that grows it, Drink, lads, drink! That lays it in and mows it, Clink, jugs, clink! To him that mows and makes it, That scatters it and shakes it, That turns, and teds, and rakes it, Clink, jugs, clink! Now here ‘s to him that stacks it, Drink, lads, drink! That thrashes […]...
13. The Mole Said he: “I’ll dive deep in the Past, And write a book of direful days When summer skies were overcast With smoke of humble hearths ablaze; When War was rampant in the land, And poor folk cowered in the night, While ruin gaped on every hand – Of ravishing and wrath I’ll write.” Ten years […]...
14. Is My Team Ploughing “Is my team ploughing, That I was used to drive And hear the harness jingle When I was man alive?” Ay, the horses trample, The harness jingles now; No change though you lie under The land you used to plough. “Is football playing Along the river shore, With lads to chase the leather, Now I […]...
15. I Hoed and Trenched and Weeded I hoed and trenched and weeded, And took the flowers to fair: I brought them home unheeded; The hue was not the wear. So up and down I sow them For lads like me to find, When I shall lie below them, A dead man out of mind. Some seed the birds devour, And some […]...
16. 349. Song-Kenmure's on and awa, Willie O KENMURE’S on and awa, Willie, O Kenmure’s on and awa: An’ Kenmure’s lord’s the bravest lord That ever Galloway saw. Success to Kenmure’s band, Willie! Success to Kenmure’s band! There’s no a heart that fears a Whig, That rides by kenmure’s hand. Here’s Kenmure’s health in wine, Willie! Here’s Kenmure’s health in wine! There’s […]...
17. At The Golden Pig Where once with lads I scoffed my beer The landlord’s lass I’ve wed. Now I am lord and master here; Thank God! the old man’s dead. I stand behind a blooming bar With belly like a tub, And pals say, seeing my cigar: ‘Bill’s wed a pub.’ I wonder now if I did well, My […]...
18. Enemy Conscript What are we fighting for, We fellows who go to war? Fighting for Freedom’s sake! (You give me the belly-ache.) Freedom to starve or slave! Freedom! aye, in the grave. Fighting for “hearth and home,” Who haven’t an inch of loam? Hearth? Why even a byre Can only be ours for hire. Dying for future […]...
19. The Recruit Leave your home behind, lad, And reach your friends your hand, And go, and luck go with you While Ludlow tower shall stand. Oh, come you home of Sunday When Ludlow streets are still And Ludlow bells are calling To farm and lane and mill, Or come you home of Monday When Ludlow market hums […]...
20. The Quesion Brethren, how shall it fare with me When the war is laid aside, If it be proven that I am he For whom a world has died? If it be proven that all my good, And the greater good I will make, Were purchased me by a multitude Who suffered for my sake? That I […]...
21. 290. Song-A Waukrife Minnie WHARE are you gaun, my bonie lass, Whare are you gaun, my hinnie? She answered me right saucilie, “An errand for my minnie.” O whare live ye, my bonie lass, O whare live ye, my hinnie? “By yon burnside, gin ye maun ken, In a wee house wi’ my minnie.” But I foor up the […]...
22. A Necklace These veines are nature’s nett, These cords by art are sett. If love himselfe flye here, Love is intangled here. Loe! on my neck this twist I bind, For to hang him that steales my mynde: Unless hee hang alive in chaynes I hang and dye in lingring paynes. Theis threads enjoy a double grace, […]...
23. Come, My Celia Come, my Celia, let us prove While we may, the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever; He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain. Suns that set may rise again; But if once we lose this light, ‘Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer […]...
24. The Burghers of Calais It were after the Battle of Crecy – The foe all lay dead on the ground – And King Edward went out with his soldiers To clean up the places around. The first place they came to were Calais, Where t’ burghers all stood in a row, And when Edward told them to surrender They […]...
25. Unlyric Love Song It is time to give that-of-myself which I could not at first: To offer you now at last my least and my worst: Minor, absurd preserves, The shell’s end-curves, A document kept at the back of a drawer, A tin hidden under the floor, Recalcitrant prides and hesitations: To pile them carefully in a desparate […]...
26. Song To Celia – I Come, my Celia, let us prove While we may the sports of love; Time will not be ours forever, He at length our good will sever. Spend not then his gifts in vain; Suns that set may rise again, But if once we lose this light, ‘Tis with us perpetual night. Why should we defer […]...
27. A Prayer ‘Mid the discordant noises of the day I hear thee calling; I stumble as I fare along Earth’s way; keep me from falling. Mine eyes are open but they cannot see for gloom of night: I can no more than lift my heart to thee for inward light. The wild and fiery passion of my […]...
28. He fought like those Who've nought to lose He fought like those Who’ve nought to lose Bestowed Himself to Balls As One who for a further Life Had not a further Use Invited Death with bold attempt But Death was Coy of Him As Other Men, were Coy of Death To Him to live was Doom His Comrades, shifted like the Flakes When […]...
29. Falstaff's Lament Over Prince Hal Become Henry V One that I cherished, Yea, loved as a son – Up early, up late with, My promising one: No use in good nurture, None, lads, none! Here on this settle He wore the true crown, King of good fellows, And Fat Jack was one – Now, Beadle of England In formal array – Best fellow […]...
30. Young Fellow My Lad “Where are you going, Young Fellow My Lad, On this glittering morn of May?” “I’m going to join the Colours, Dad; They’re looking for men, they say.” “But you’re only a boy, Young Fellow My Lad; You aren’t obliged to go.” “I’m seventeen and a quarter, Dad, And ever so strong, you know.” * * […]...
31. Portent Courage mes gars: La guerre est proche. I plant my little plot of beans, I sit beneath my cyprus tree; I do not know what trouble means, I cultivate tranquillity. . . But as to-day my walk I made In all serenity and cheer, I saw cut in an agave blade: “Courage, my comrades, war […]...
32. THE SINGING SCHOOL The Poetry School, The Poetry Book Society, The Poetry Business: So much poetry about you’d think I’d want to shout, “Hurray, hurray, Every day’s Poetry Day!” but I don’t and you don’t either- You know its flim-flam on the ether, grants for Jack-the-lads Of both sexes, poets who’ve never been seen in a little magazine […]...
33. A Purse-String We hugg, imprison, hang, and save, This foe, this friend, our Lord, our slave. While thus I hang, you threatned see The fate of him that stealeth mee....
34. Song-Books of the War In fifty years, when peace outshines Remembrance of the battle lines, Adventurous lads will sigh and cast Proud looks upon the plundered past. On summer morn or winter’s night, Their hearts will kindle for the fight, Reading a snatch of soldier-song, Savage and jaunty, fierce and strong; And through the angry marching rhymes Of blind […]...
35. Europe, the 72d and 73d years of These States 1 SUDDENLY, out of its stale and drowsy lair, the lair of slaves, Like lightning it le’pt forth, half startled at itself, Its feet upon the ashes and the rags-its hands tight to the throats of kings. O hope and faith! O aching close of exiled patriots’ lives! O many a sicken’d heart! Turn back […]...
36. Strong Beer “What do you think The bravest drink Under the sky?” “Strong beer,” said I. “There’s a place for everything, Everything, anything, There’s a place for everything Where it ought to be: For a chicken, the hen’s wing; For poison, the bee’s sting; For almond-blossom, Spring; A beerhouse for me.” “There’s a prize for every one […]...
37. As Through the Wild Green Hills of Wyre As through the wild green hills of Wyre The train ran, changing sky and shire, And far behind, a fading crest, Low in the forsaken west Sank the high-reared head of Clee, My hand lay empty on my knee. Aching on my knee it lay: That morning half a shire away So many an honest […]...
38. Cheery Beggar Beyond Mбgdalen and by the Bridge, on a place called there the Plain, In Summer, in a burst of summertime Following falls and falls of rain, When the air was sweet-and-sour of the flown fineflower of Those goldnails and their gaylinks that hang along a lime; . . . . . . . . The […]...
39. To Ben Jonson upon Occasion of his Ode of Defiance Annexed t ‘Tis true, dear Ben, thy just chastising hand Hath fix’d upon the sotted age a brand To their swoll’n pride and empty scribbling due; It can nor judge, nor write, and yet ’tis true Thy comic muse, from the exalted line Touch’d by thy Alchemist, doth since decline From that her zenith, and foretells a […]...
40. Last Will And Testament Comrades, if I don’t live to see the day I mean, if I die before freedom comes Take me away And bury me in a village cemetery in Anatolia. The worker Osman whom Hassan Bey ordered shot Can lie on one side of me, and on the other side The martyr Aysha, who gave birth […]...