The Poetry Corner

Lambourn Town

By John Frederick Freeman

The rain beat on me as I walked, In the roadside it ran and muttered. It seemed the rain to the wind talked Of storm: in the wind the wild cloud fluttered. Across the down, now bleak and loud, I went and the rain ran with me. How swift the rain, how low the cloud! No heavenly comfort could I see, Nor comfort of low beaming light From any casement creeping out. The swift rain on the patient night Swept, and anon would great winds shout. Rain, rain, nought else, until I turned The thrusting shoulder of the down, And through the mist of rain there burned The few green lanterns of the town. And in the rain the night was lit With my love's eyes burning for me; Her white face in the dark was sweet, Her hands like moonflowers quiveringly Fell upon mine, and each was dashed With rain blown in from streaming eaves, While overhead the broad flood plashed Noisily on the broad plane leaves. Within we heard the gurgle-glock In the pipe, the tip-tap on the sill Like the same ticking of the clock; We heard the water-butt o'erspill, The wind come blustering at the door, The whipped white lilac thrash the wall; The candle flame upon the floor Crept between shadows magical.... In the black east a pallid ray Rose high; and sweeping o'er the down The slow increase of stormless day Lit the wet roofs of Lambourn town.