Sleep And Time.

"Wake, baillie, wake! the crafts are out;
    Wake!" said the knight, "be quick!
For high street, bye street, over the town
    They fight with poker and stick."
Said the squire, "A fight so fell was ne'er
    In all my bailliewick."
What said the old clock in the tower?
    "Tick, tick, tick!"

"Wake, daughter, wake! the hour draws on;
    Wake!" quoth the dame, "be quick!
The meats are set, the guests are coming,
    The fiddler waxing his stick."
She said, "The bridegroom waiting and waiting
    To see thy face is sick."
What said the new clock in her bower?
    "Tick, tick, tick!"

Jean Ingelow

Jean Ingelow was an English poet and novelist known for her popular stories and poems in the 19th century. Her work, including 'Mopsa the Fairy', earned her recognition during her lifetime. She was also involved in the Pre-Raphaelite movement. Ingelow published several poetry collections, with her first in 1863, which was well-received and cemented her reputation as a poet.

Jean Ingelow

Though All Great Deeds.

Jean Ingelow, Simple Poetry

Divided.

Jean Ingelow, Simple Poetry

Seven Times Three. Love.

Jean Ingelow, Simple Poetry

Songs Of The Night Watches, - Concluding Song Of Dawn.

Jean Ingelow, Simple Poetry

English

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Songs Of The Night Watches, - Introductory.

(Old English Manner.)

APPRENTICED.

Come out and hear the waters shoot, the owlet hoot, the owlet hoot;
Yon crescent moon, a golden boat, hangs dim behind the tree, O!
The dropping thorn makes white the grass, O sweetest lass, and sweetest lass;
Come out and smell the ricks of hay adown the croft with me, O!"

"My granny nods before her wheel, and drops her reel, and drops her reel;
My father with his crony talks as gay as gay can be, O!
But all the milk is yet to skim, ere light wax dim, ere light wax dim;
How can I step adown the croft, my 'prentice lad, with thee, O?"

"And must ye bide, yet waiting's long, and love is strong, and love is strong;
And O! had I but served the time, that takes so long to flee, O!
And thou, my lass, by morning's light w...

Jean Ingelow

A Winter Song.

Came the dread Archer up yonder lawn -
    Night is the time for the old to die -
But woe for an arrow that smote the fawn,
    When the hind that was sick unscathed went by.

Father lay moaning, "Her fault was sore
    (Night is the time when the old must die),
Yet, ah to bless her, my child, once more,
    For heart is failing: the end is nigh."

"Daughter, my daughter, my girl," I cried
    (Night is the time for the old to die),
"Woe for the wish if till morn ye bide" -
    Dark was the welkin and wild the sky.

Heavily plunged from the roof the snow -
    (Night is the time when the old will die),
She answered, "My mother, 'tis well, I go."
    Sparkled the north star, the wrack flew high.

First at his head, and last at his feet
...

Jean Ingelow

Seven Times Two. Romance.

You bells in the steeple, ring, ring out your changes,
How many soever they be,
And let the brown meadow-lark's note as he ranges
Come over, come over to me.

Yet bird's clearest carol by fall or by swelling
No magical sense conveys,
And bells have forgotten their old art of telling
The fortune of future days.

"Turn again, turn again," once they rang cheerily,
While a boy listened alone;
Made his heart yearn again, musing so wearily
All by himself on a stone.

Poor bells! I forgive you; your good days are over,
And mine, they are yet to be;
No listening, no longing shall aught, aught discover:
You leave the story to me.

The foxglove shoots out of the green matted heather,
And hangeth her hoods of snow;
She was idle, and slept ti...

Jean Ingelow

Songs Of The Night Watches, - The Morning Watch.

THE COMING IN OF THE "MERMAIDEN."

The moon is bleached as white as wool,
And just dropping under;
Every star is gone but three,
And they hang far asunder, -
There's a sea-ghost all in gray,
A tall shape of wonder!

I am not satisfied with sleep, -
The night is not ended.
But look how the sea-ghost comes,
With wan skirts extended,
Stealing up in this weird hour,
When light and dark are blended.

A vessel! To the old pier end
Her happy course she's keeping;
I heard them name her yesterday:
Some were pale with weeping;
Some with their heart-hunger sighed,
She's in, - and they are sleeping.

O! now with fancied greetings blest,
They comfort their long aching:
The sea of sleep hath borne to them
What would not come...

Jean Ingelow

Sleep.

(A WOMAN SPEAKS.)

O sleep, we are beholden to thee, sleep,
    Thou bearest angels to us in the night,
    Saints out of heaven with palms. Seen by thy light
Sorrow is some old tale that goeth not deep;
Love is a pouting child. Once I did sweep
    Through space with thee, and lo, a dazzling sight -
    Stars! They came on, I felt their drawing and might;
And some had dark companions. Once (I weep
When I remember that) we sailed the tide,
And found fair isles, where no isles used to bide,
    And met there my lost love, who said to me,
That 'twas a long mistake: he had not died.
    Sleep, in the world to come how strange 'twill be
Never to want, never to wish for thee!

Jean Ingelow

The Fairy Clock

Silver clock! O silver clock! tell to me the time o' day!
Is there yet a little hour left for us to work and play?
Tell me when the sun will set - tiny globe of silver-grey.

It has been so glad a world since the coming of the morn,
Oft I wondered when I met any souls who seemed forlorn -
And I scarce gave heed to those who were old or travel worn.

Mayhap I have loved too well the merry fleeting things;
Run too lightly with the wind - chased too many shining wings;
Thought too seldom of the night, and the silence that it brings.

Well I fear me I have been but an idler in the sun -
All unfinished are the tasks long and long ago begun -
In the dark perchance they weep, who have left their work undone.

And I know each black-frocked friar preacheth sermons that...

Virna Sheard