POETRY.
BADCOMBE FAIR-NIGHT.
THE new moon was two nights away, The sun two hours was down,
And all the starless heavens were grey Above the fire-lit town.
The fair-folk mustered at the booths, The boozers at the inns, And lasses in the lanes with youths Lay down to share their sins.
I watched two out into the night ; And after, without haste, Saw, when the street had spent its light, His arm go round her waist ; Where lamps were none, and windows feN4 And the glare of the town grew dim, I saw, together as they drew, Her face go up to him.
They turned into the hawthorn way.
And, where thick boughs could 'hide, While two at love a-kissing lay, Another crept beside ; And where four arms went each about, And four lips fondly pressed, Another arm came reaching out, And a knife did the rest.
The dog's death struck into his heart, Too quick for sound or cry ; Atwcen the sweetness and the smart Of a kiss I felt him die : In, in beneath the shoulder blade, And out, out through the lung : Into her breast where's head was laid Red blood ran from his tongue.
Then softly I got up and slow Crept off, ere she began To guess the truth ; and left her so, In the arms of her dead man.
The new moon was two nights away, The sun two hours was down, And all the starless heavens were grey Above the fire-lit town.
LAURENCE HOUSMAN.
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