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Della Rae

Harold Pohl

When first I prayed to lose my heart
I was but twenty-one;
I lived in Bingham by the church
And loved the postman's son.

We met in any gold-green copse
That would extend us shade,
And watched as alders' swaying tops
Affirmed the vows we made.

At county fairs we danced and danced
With others, lest we may
With some too wondrous loving glance
Give ourselves away.

But the postman's boy went off to sea
To fight bravely for the crown;
The townies gave him three times three.
And drank his health 'til dawn.

One letter was all I had to heart
Before we got the news:
Six vessels blasted all apart
With captains, mates and crews.

Now I'm all but thirty-four
And live at Welsing Place.
I'm known about as the townies' whore
And durst not show my face.

On summer nights I walk Soames's Lane
And find that lovely place
Where we lay down the very first time
And my love I first embraced.

I look west to Welsing Road
Westward toward the sea;
Oh, that this wintry morning's gale
Could bring my love to me.

Home :: Poetry :: Love (5) :: Della Rae

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