GOW'S WATCH Go in peace and lay your death to Fortune's door. Ferdinand. Who knows not Fortune, glutted on easy thrones, Stealing from feasts as rare to coney-catch Privily in the hedgerows for a clown, With that same cruel-lustful hand and eye, The King. I have pursued with prayers where my heart warns me My soul shall overtake Enter the Queen. The King. Look not! Wait till I tell you, dearest. Gow. So! God hath cut off the Prince in his pleasures. Gow, to save the King, hath silenced one poor fool who knew how it befell, and now the King's dead, needs only that the Queen should kill Gow and all's safe for her this side o' the Judgment. Senor Ferdinand, the wind's easterly. I'm for the road. Ferdinand. My horse is at the gate. God speed you. Whither? Gow. To the Duke, if the Queen does not lay hands on me before. However it goes, I charge you bear witness, Senor Ferdinand, I served the old King faithfully. To the death, Senor Ferdinand-to the death! THE WISHING CAPS IFE'S all getting and giving. What shall I do for a living? I've only one life to live. End it? I'll not find another. Spend it? But how shall I best? Sure the wise plan is to live like a man, Bad Luck, she is never a lady But the commonest wench on the street, Shameless to pass or meet. Walk with her once-it's a weakness! Talk to her twice-it's a crime! Thrust her away when she gives you 'good day' And the besom won't board you next time. Largesse! Largesse, Fortune! What is Your Ladyship's mood? My Fortune is bound to be good! THE WISHING CAPS Good Luck she is never a lady Greet her-she's hailing a stranger! I'll neither follow nor flee. 'BY THE HOOF OF THE WILD GOAT' B Y the Hoof of the Wild Goat uptossed From the cliff where she lay in the Sun, To the Tarn where the daylight is lost; Now the fall was ordained from the first, Knows only her life is accursed, As she sinks from the light of the Sun, Oh Thou Who hast builded the World! The sin of the Stone that was hurled Even now-even now-even now! THE DAWN WIND T two o'clock in the morning, if you open your window and listen, A You will hear the feet of the Wind that is going to call the sun. And the trees in the shadow rustle and the trees in the moonlight glisten, And though it is deep, dark night, you feel that the night is done. So do the cows in the field. They graze for an hour and lie down, Dozing and chewing the cud; or a bird in the ivy wakes, Chirrups one note and is still, and the restless Wind strays on, Fidgeting far down the road, till, softly, the darkness breaks. Back comes the Wind full strength with a blow like an angel's wing, Gentle but waking the world, as he shouts: 'The Sun! The Sun!' And the light floods over the fields and the birds begin to sing, And the Wind dies down in the grass. It is Day and his work is done. |