It clutter'd here, it chuckled there; It stirr'd the old wife's mettle: She shifted in her elbow-chair, And hurl'd the pan and kettle. 'A quinsy choke thy cursed note!' Then wax'd her anger stronger. 'Go, take the goose, and wring her throat, I will not bear it longer.' Then yelp'd the cur, and yawl'd the cat; Ran Gaffer, stumbled Gammer. The goose flew this way and flew that, And fill'd the house with clamour. As head and heels upon the floor They flounder'd all together, There strode a stranger to the door, And it was windy weather: He took the goose upon his arm, He utter'd words of scorning; 'So keep you cold, or keep you warm, It is a stormy morning.' The wild wind rang from park and plain, And round the attics rumbled, Till all the tables danced again, And half the chimneys tumbled. The glass blew in, the fire blew out, The blast was hard and harder. Her cap blew off, her gown blew up, And a whirlwind clear'd the larder; And while on all sides breaking loose Her household fled the danger, Quoth she, 'The Devil take the goose, And God forget the stranger!' IN AUTUMN I A SPIRIT haunts the year's last hours Dwelling amid these yellowing bowers: To himself he talks; For at eventide, listening earnestly, At his work you may hear him sob and sigh In the walks; Earthward he boweth the heavy stalks Of the mouldering flowers: Heavily hangs the broad sunflower Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. II The air is damp, and hush'd, and close, As a sick man's room when he taketh repose An hour before death; My very heart faints and my whole soul grieves At the moist rich smell of the rotting leaves, And the breath Of the fading edges of box beneath, And the year's last rose. Heavily hangs the broad sunflower Over its grave i' the earth so chilly; Heavily hangs the hollyhock, Heavily hangs the tiger-lily. AS THROUGH THE LAND AT EVE WE WENT As thro' the land at eve we went, And plucked the ripened ears, We fell out, my wife and I, We fell out, I know not why, And kissed again with tears. And blessings on the falling out That all the more endears, When we fall out with those we love, And kiss again with tears! For when we came where lies the child We lost in other years, There above the little grave, O there above the little grave, We kissed again with tears. THE BUGLE THE splendour falls on castle walls And snowy summits, old in story: The long light shakes across the lakes, And the wild cataract leaps in glory. Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, And thinner, clearer, farther going! O sweet and far from cliff and scar The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.