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Blind Man''s Buff

编辑:chaxungu时间:2022-10-13 02:45:38分类:英语诗歌

When silver snow decks Susan's clothes,

And jewel hangs at th' shepherd's nose,

The blushing bank is all my care,

With hearth so red, and walls so fair;

`Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher,

The oaken log lay on the fire.'

The well-wash'd stools, a circling row,

With lad and lass, how fair the show!

The merry can of nut-brown ale,

The laughing jest, the love-sick tale,

Till, tir'd of chat, the game begins.

The lasses prick the lads with pins;

Roger from Dolly twitch'd the stool,

She, falling, kiss'd the ground, poor fool!

She blush'd so red, with sidelong glance

At hob-nail Dick, who griev'd the chance.

But now for Blind man's Buff they call;

Of each encumbrance clear the hall——

Jenny her silken 'kerchief folds,

And blear-eyed Will the black lot holds.

Now laughing stops, with `Silence! hush!'

And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push.

The Blind man's arms, extended wide,

Sam slips between:——`O woe betide

Thee, clumsy Will!'——but titt'ring Kate

Is penn'd up in the corner straight!

And now Will's eyes beheld the play;

He thought his face was t'other way.

`Now, Kitty, now! what chance hast thou,

Roger so near thee!——Trips, I vow!'

She catches him——then Roger ties

His own head up——but not his eyes;

For thro' the slender cloth he sees,

And runs at Sam, who slips with ease

His clumsy hold; and, dodging round,

Sukey is tumbled on the ground!——

`See what it is to play unfair!

Where cheating is, there's mischief there.'

But Roger still pursues the chase,——

`He sees! he sees!' cries, softly, Grace;

`O Roger, thou, unskill'd in art,

Must, surer bound, go thro' thy part!'

Now Kitty, pert, repeats the rimes,

And Roger turns him round three times,

Then pauses ere he starts——but Dick

Was mischief bent upon a trick;

Down on his hands and knees he lay

Directly in the Blind man's way,

Then cries out `Hem!' Hodge heard, and ran

With hood-wink'd chance——sure of his man;

But down he came. —— Alas, how frail

Our best of hopes, how soon they fail!

With crimson drops he stains the ground;

Confusion startles all around.

Poor piteous Dick supports his head,

And fain would cure the hurt he made.

But Kitty hasted with a key,

And down his back they straight convey

The cold relief; the blood is stay'd,

And Hodge again holds up his head.

Such are the fortunes of the game,

And those who play should stop the same

By wholesome laws; such as all those

Who on the blinded man impose

Stand in his stead; as, long a-gone,

When men were first a nation grown,

Lawless they liv'd, till wantonness

And liberty began t' increase,

And one man lay in another's way;

Then laws were made to keep fair play.