The espalier | Project Gutenberg

IN THE COTSWOLDS

All day the rain

Fell on the wheat

And dripped from the gable

On to the stone;

And all day long

I sat alone

Save for the dog

Who slept at my feet.

Slept—till a-sudden

He roused in fear,

And snuffed at the door,

And would not be quelled.

I opened—and there

An old crone I beheld,

And round about her

The dusk drawn near.

Something she said—

But her voice was hollow,

And chill was the hand

She laid on mine.

Her words were a riddle

I could not untwine;

And when she turned onward

I knew I must follow.

I felt the watery

Stubble souse

My ankles, and round me

Saw corn-shocks blurred.

And faint and fainter

Yet I heard

The dog bark on

In the empty house.