Lady Jane.

Sapphics.      Down the green hill-side fro' the castle window      Lady Jane spied Bill Amaranth a-workin';      Day by day watched him go about his ample                  Nursery garden.      Cabbages thriv'd there, wi' a mort o' green-stuff--      Kidney beans, broad beans, onions, tomatoes,      Artichokes, seakale, vegetable marrows,                  Early potatoes.      Lady Jane cared not very much for all these:      What she cared much for was a glimpse o' Willum      Strippin' his brown arms wi' a view to horti-                 -Cultural effort.      Little guessed Willum, never extra-vain, that      Up the green hill-side, i' the gloomy castle,      Feminine eyes could so delight to view his                  Noble proportions.      Only one day while, in an innocent mood,      Moppin' his brow ('cos 'twas a trifle sweaty)      With a blue kerchief--lo, he spies a white 'un                  Coyly responding.      Oh, delightsome Love!    Not a jot do you care      For the restrictions set on human inter-     -course by cold-blooded social refiners;                  Nor do I, neither.      Day by day, peepin' fro' behind the bean-sticks,      Willum observed that scrap o' white a-wavin',      Till his hot sighs out-growin' all repression                  Busted his weskit.      Lady Jane's guardian was a haughty Peer, who      Clung to old creeds and had a nasty temper;      Can we blame Willum that he hardly cared to                  Risk a refusal?      Year by year found him busy 'mid the bean-sticks,      Wholly uncertain how on earth to take steps.      Thus for eighteen years he beheld the maiden                  Wave fro' her window.      But the nineteenth spring, i' the Castle post-bag,      Came by book-post Bill's catalogue o' seedlings      Mark'd wi' blue ink at 'Paragraphs relatin'                  Mainly to Pumpkins.'     'W. A.    can,' so the Lady Jane read,     'Strongly commend that very noble Gourd, the     Lady Jane, first-class medal, ornamental;                  Grows to a great height.'      Scarce a year arter, by the scented hedgerows--      Down the mown hill-side, fro' the castle gateway--      Came a long train and, i' the midst, a black bier,                  Easily shouldered.     'Whose is yon corse that, thus adorned wi' gourd-leaves,      Forth ye bear with slow step?'    A mourner answer'd,     ''Tis the poor clay-cold body Lady Jane grew                  Tired to abide in.'     'Delve my grave quick, then, for I die to-morrow.      Delve it one furlong fro' the kidney bean-sticks,      Where I may dream she's goin' on precisely                  As she was used to.'      Hardly died Bill when, fro' the Lady Jane's grave,      Crept to his white death-bed a lovely pumpkin:      Climb'd the house wall and over-arched his head wi'                  Billowy verdure.      Simple this tale!--but delicately perfumed      As the sweet roadside honeysuckle.    That's why,      Difficult though its metre was to tackle,                  I'm glad I wrote it.