POETRY.

Globe, Volume XXII, Issue 1898, 24 March 1880, Page 3

POETRY.

GOING TO MARKET; Ob, Gbanpdamb’s Comflaikt. "Ah,” cried a granddamo, sighing deep, “ Times are not what they used to be ; Good things grow scarcer—ill, more cheap, And lads and lasses seem changed to me “ Time was, when country maid would trudge Bare-footed o’er the dewy meads, Nor call herself an ill-paid drudge Worse thought of than the beast she feeds. “ On market mornings she would tread— Unshodden still —the grassy road, And bear upon her graceful head. Of eggs or fruit a goodly load. “ No changeful fashions vexed her heart With envy of a sister’s plight : She sighed not to be rich and smart. Nor deemed herself a country fright I “ Though lace nor ribbon decked her hair, Nor jewels flashed upon her breast, She stepped as light, she looked as fair. As though in richest garments dressed.

“ I loved to see her form appear At morn, upon the green-wood side ; With firm free step that knew no fear, Upon her sunny way she hied. “ I’ve watched her through the coppice gate. Her basket poised with skilful care; Her slender neck so white and straight, Sweet shaded by her nut-brown hair.

“ The flush of health was on her cheeks, Like bloom that on the soft peach lies ; The smile that inward peace bespeaks Played gently in her hazel eyes. “ Ah me ! those days are passed away ! For show and dress the ladies pine : They ape the lady’s bright array,— Their only hope to look as fine. “ Their hard-earned money is spent in gauds, They bear their fortunes on their backs ; Some hawker’s art too oft defrauds The purse whoso owner wisdom lacks.

“Ah me! my heart with grief is sore, Times seemed so changed since I was young; Then wise lads shunn’d the lass who wore Cheap silks with trashy jewels hung.” W, B. Weekly Welcome.”