For to deliver a message

  Lie down then under a bush

  Steep gainst a sheltering wall

  Think to sleep but no sleep come

  Just lie looking up at the lace of leaves

  The sun above the cornflowr skye

  Hold my mind steady think of naught

  Foxes have holes

  The birds of the air nests

  But what place now can I find

  The night then does come

  Still I lie gainst the wall

  Feel that soon I shall die

  Am glad of this

  I must then have slept

  So twas there gainst Sutton Mill

  In the new born gleam of dawn

  The mist still muster thick

  The dew swathd heavy

  That the Lord God did appear to me

  Walking through the field

  Just up afore me

  As He walk through this His paradise

  His garden He made eastward of Eden

  Carrying in His hand a staff

  His long robes trail the dew thick ground

  Turning then to look back but once at me

  Signalling then on up the hill

  Back up the steep way

  So I do rise up then and follow He

  Knew that He had come

  That I might not die

  But have new life

  In death dark vale

  I fear no ill

  With Thee dear Lord beside me

  Though soon soon He is takd into the mist

  Yet still I go climbing up

  Fire now by the power of His Grace and Glory

  I get to the summit

  Come to a corner in the road

  Look down many mile cross Valley and wood

  Through the fold of hill and hummock

  Far below see a lofty tower rise up

  Tall and straight stretch up in the skye

  Dazzle in the light

  This then is the cathedral at Gloucester

  Like I see the City of God

  Such a soul flooding sight

  Gladden even the sorest heart

  Such should be raise to the Glory of our Lord

  Such splendid perfection

  Enough to wipe away all sin

  All the petty inadequacy of our thwartd lives

  Seeing this I feel new life might be possible

  Even for such as me

  It could be so

  God shall wipe away all the tears

  From their eyes and there shall be no more death

  Neither sorrow nor crying

  Nor shall there be

  Any more pain for the former things

  Are passd away

  So thinking I find the strength

  Step on again into the blustering day

  GLOUCESTER

  You write a book of yr life

  Think perhaps it should be one page every year

  Then you find that sometime

  Forty years can be writ

  In the turn of a page

  So tis for me

  What can I say of those many years

  I did spend in the City of Gloucester

  They were as naught

  I was unknowd to the Lord unknowd to myself

  Lost in sadness and in rage

  Dwelling in the wilderness cast in a deep pit

  Many jobs I did do

  Emptying the night soil

  Pot scouring stitching in a cobblers shop

  Following after the coaches to sweep up

  The soil in the streets

  Working in hostelries workshops

  Sweeping out the school house

  Unloading wood for the fire

  Little comfort to be found

  Except the cathedral itself

  Such as me not right to go in

  Yet could stand near the entrance

  Look up at the girt tower above

  Which I do oft but always always

  My mind stick on this one fact

  I told the truth

  I did what is right

  In doing so I killd a good man

  Curse be he that taketh reward

  To slay an innocent person

  God God I ask again and again

  Yr law tells always the truth is all

  So how then can Master Blyths life be takd

  All my belief is turnd upside down

  Then come the blessd day

  I get myself a job in the gaol

  Not many people want such work

  Dressing the bodies

  Even of those hangd

  Yet I did like the work

  Did it well

  Buy a new wool dress

  Go to the barber get some teeth

  At the back of my mouth take out

  They are rotten and ache bad

  I think on it now and

  Perhaps I take such care

  In the dressing of those departd

  For in my mind they became

  The bodies of those who I had lovd

  Yet had faild them at the end

  Baby Fern and Mr Woebegone

  Master Blyth Lucetta all

  Mr Harland Cottrell and Nettie even

  Perhaps twas because I think of them so much

  A tiny bit of the past come back to me

  It happen like this I was in the street

  A winter day echo clear scatterd with frost

  When I did hear a voice call out

  At first was afeard but then I turnd

  There was Ambrose walking toward me

  Just as he always had

  He come by then a railway engineer

  Advise on a new line they bring in

  Did not surprise me

  If twas not one machine twas tother

  Was marrid with a wife and three childers

  One a boy who was with him that day

  A fine growd lad of fourteen maybe more

  The one who lives now down below this house

  Has hisself a child

  The one as brought the eggs

  That day Ambrose slap me firm on the shoulder

  Laugh long and shake his head again and again

  Oh he says How good tis to see you Mary Ann

  He says to his son who stands by

  This lady were my sister

  When we were but childers

  Then he tell me both Mr Harland Cottrell

  And Nettie dead

  Though they did both live some several years

  After I did leave

  He takd to his eternal rest and then she expire

  But a week later

  The land at Stocton Hill now farmd

  By a man come down from London

  Many had supposd so Ambrose say

  That with his fathers death

  Master Blyth would return

  If only for to see the place shut up

  Yet he never did

  At the mention of that name

  I do turn about saying

  Sorry sorry I must be going now

  I must not delay

  Yet Ambrose pull me back say

  So so We think to make things different

  Yet it all comes round again

  You lay yr back to the wheel

  For what time you may

  Others will come after to push on

  The girt load of human progress

  I do not live in bitterness

  And you Mary Ann

  Do you

  I look him then hard in the eye

  No I say Not in bitterness

  Yet I count the cost

  I try to sort right from wrong

  You were evr a good woman he say

  Then shakes his head stares on down the street

  Speaks again to remind me of that day

  So far lost back in time now

  When we did stand under the dripping trees

  Far up above The Heavens

  Talking of how we likd well the rain

  As well the sun

  The dark as well the light

  Then he say

  I hope Mary Ann even now

  You see also the light

  I nod my head and consider that question

  Then he do say

  I do never forget all you did for me

  Thankee I say

  Then thinking again the words come

  We were so v young then

  At that I bid him farewell and turn to go

  He raising his hat to me

  Only look back when I reach

  The end of the street

  See him still staring after me

  Which did surprise me much

  For he was never a man to look back

  Always a man of the future was he

  My dear Ambrose I never see again

  Just that one time

  Except did hear

  He was killd out at Maisemore

  So he become another body

  As I imagine myself to have dressd

  Care for at the end

  Twas but a year after I meet Ambrose

  My situation was happily improvd

  It come about by accident

  Twas a time of plague in Gloucester

  Many many gone dead and a cause of that

  Many deaths must be writ down

  Many records to be kept straight

  Yet even those who are to writ them down

  Are dead theysselfs

  So I say then

  I can read and write

  Can put all down if so the need is

  Course at first I am not believd

  But by that time I am knowd to the Old Porter

  Of him I shall shortly tell more

  Twas this Old Porter who did say

  If Mary Ann says it then twill be true

  So I am tried out

  Worry then I may disappoint

  For many years passd since I held a pen

  The steel nib then being usd everywhere

  Tis much easier

  Yet Mr Harland Cottrell did teach me well

  For when I get startd I write a good hand

  Like to do the work

  See all is record there

  The name the date and the profession

  Clock maker razor grinder stillborn

  Weaver imbecile shearman

  Died in infancy Died in childbirth

  Milliner ladies maid baker

  The work is less hard

  I am givd a new dress and apron

  The room where I work has a fire

  Even I am paid ten shillings a week

  Only one day I remember in particular

  As I did fall in conversation the Old Porter

  Had happend a few times afore

  This Old Porter did put me in mind sometime

  Of that Mr Harland Cottrell

  The two were not alike in physical appearance

  This Old Porter being as small and dubby

  As Mr Harland Cottrell straw thin

  Yet in mind the two were similar

  As thinking deep long and questionly

  On all matters of religion and morality

  So it come that time a man was to be hung

  In Gloucester One Edward Hewitt

  Had grievously murdered his wife Sarah Ann

  So that Old Porter say to me

  What think you Mary Ann

  Surely we should not be hanging men

  In this now more civilizd and Christian time

  I do take some while to think on his question

  Then finally I do say

  I think they should be hung Sir

  Yes no doubt they must swing

  For if you do not take a firm line now

  Then what will come

  You give any advantage to such as they

  Can only lead to trouble

  Take the lid off

  You will not get he back on

  As I speak the words I think of Nettie

  Remember how Ambrose did tease

  They do eat their own childers

  Having flavourd they first with salt and sauce

  So we did laugh but maybe

  She knew more than we evr saw

  That day I do remember

  For it were the beginning of many discourse

  Did arise betwixt me and the Old Porter

  He did lend me books

  Of spiritual improvement and enquiry

  Also the novels of Mr Dickens

  Became my girtest pleasure to read

  The verse of Mr John Clare

  I had read afore

  Some poems also he had on a paper

  Writ by a papist in Oxford Mr Hopkins

  These I did value more than any other

  Repeating them oft in my head

  So it came I did confide in that Old Porter

  How I had growd apart from the Lord

  Hid myself from Him and He from me

  So I say this to he

  As I fill his pipe

  We both sitting down by the fire

  For the evening long advancd

  This he did tell me then

  Mary Ann if we choose to live always

  In the freedom of the mind

  Whatevr may be the constraints of the flesh

  Then the price we pay may be high

  Yet that does not make our decision wrong

  Also he say The question now is this

  Mary Ann Where did you evr find our Lord

  Where might you find Him now

  The answer comes on me straightway

  I speak without the least impediment

  I always found the Lord in the Valleys Sir

  The Valleys of my childhood

  Ah then Mary Ann

  Then that is where He is

  Tis there you must seek He

  So he does say

  Only a week after this talk

  This Old Porter is gone

  His short season passd

  Takd by a violent seizure

  For we are but tenants here

  A wind that passeth does not return

  Days swifter than a weavers shuttle

  I knew then all must change about

  So all fell out and I must say

  They give me two weeks wages

  Also may stay in my room same time

  I appreciate much

  Yet what work then could I do

  I had not long to pass I knew

  Being gone my three score years and ten

  Just as I am thinking on this

  A lady does come to visit me

  She is dressd all in black

  With a stiff white collar

  Her spine straight as a rake

  Her hair pulld back

  So her eyes waterd

  Yet she spoke to me most respectfully

  Saying she was a Quaker friend of the Old Porter

  Had come to ask what assistance she may

  I had never been askd such a question

  But still I answerd straightway

  I need to get home Madam

  If some means could be found travel to Stroud

  So she come back the next day

  Says to me I am go to the Cross

  To find there a man calld Sykes

  He is a carter is already paid

  He cannot take me to Stroud

  Only to Painswick

  Tis the best could be found

  Then into my hand she pushes a cloth

  Inside bread apple a slice of ham

  When I look up she has gone

  Sorry that I could not thank her

  Yet still packing up my few possessions

  Those kerchiefs buttons pieces of hair

  I did evr keep

  Setting out in haste

  For the Cross

  Where are many carts

  Setting out and returning

  I finds Mr Sykes with no trouble

  Soon am sat up in the cart

  Cloth on my knee

  So we set out through the sides of Gloucester

  Where are built now smart villas of red brick

  Then all up the long rocking hill

  The cart flick the whip the horse go on

  Into the sparkling fresh of the hills

  The green dancing in my eyes

  All the way to Painswick

  There I must descend

  Take the road now on my own two feet

  Yet I am in good cheer

  For tis down hill all the way from here

  To Stroudwater

  Go back that same road I did tread

  Well more than forty years afore

  Tird and stiff I was but sure

  Wanting to get on

  Godspeed I say to myself

  For you are on the way now

  Home

  MOUNT VERNON

  Outside the rain fall now

  Breaking gentle on the winder

  Cutting down through all dust grime

  Why does the Good Lord not call me now

  My time is long past

  I am done here

 

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