Classic Poem

TELLER

Old Cleveburn for ever! Go, ringers, and turn
The brown tower door on its greystonen durn,
And take every man in his uphanging hands
The ropes' twisted strands —

FULL CHORUS

What now, then? what now?

TELLER

And ring up a peal, for you ought to be proud
Of your brothers and sons. Come and cheer them aloud,
For the men of Old Cleveburn will bring from the feast
Three prizes at least.

TELLER'S CHORUS

Now guess for the three.

TELLER

'Tis spryfooted Jim, and 'tis broadshoulder'd Joe,
And young Willy that jumps like a winglifted crow
By the tall ashen tree.

FULL CHORUS

Here's clap for each chap, then; hurrah!

TELLER

There Jim, with five others, went off with a bound
From the line, on the grass, like a hare-hunting hound,
With outreaching breast, and with looks that no face
Could turn from the race.

FULL CHORUS

Well done, Jim! well done!

TELLER

And they shot through the tree-shades, like birds on the wing,
And could hear but one gush of the rock-leaping spring,
And a rook they outstripp'd with their flight on the ground
Turned hopeless around.

TELLER'S CHORUS

And spryfooted Jim
Came in quickly-panting, with red-blooming face,
The first by a nose — ay a head — ay a pace,
The sleekest of limb.

FULL CHORUS

Here's a cheer he should hear, then; hurrah!

TELLER

Then on came the light-footed jumpers, to bound,
For height in the air, and for length on the ground,
And they sprang with their legs to their thighs gather'd back,
Till they pitch'd, falling slack.

FULL CHORUS

Well done, then! well done!

TELLER

And they mark'd a long air-track, and settled as tight
As a rook in a field, from a few yards of flight,
Though one would pitch backward, and one pitch ahead,
And one with firm tread.

TELLER'S CHORUS

But in jumping, young Bill
Outstripped all the crew; and his heel smothered low
The head of a flow'r, that had no other blow
From a foot by the hill.

FULL CHORUS

Good strokes, merry folks, then; hurrah!

TELLER

Then on came the boats up the river's broad face,
Each ploughing a furrow of foam in its race,
While the oarsmen fell back, and their two oars would turn,
To sweep back astern.

FULL CHORUS

Well done, then! well done!

TELLER

Or else as the down-leaning rowers would bow,
Their oars flew ahead for new water to plough,
As they floated by willow, or ivy-hung rock,
Or by herd, or by flock.

TELLER'S CHORUS

But broadshoulder'd Joe,
With the heat on his brow, and an oar in each fist,
Rush'd in with the first of the crews on the list
That did row.

FULL CHORUS

Well done, every son! then, hurrah!

TELLER

So let Will leap the brook, where no bridge may be placed,
And not stay to climb over bars, in his haste,
But over them bound, ay, and over them fly,
In his shoes ankle high.

FULL CHORUS

Well done, Will! well done!

TELLER

And Jim run the fields of old Cleveburn, a match
For a hound in full run, or the hare he would catch,
And Joe row his boat up the stream, with a weight
Of the girls for a freight.

TELLER'S CHORUS

Ay! jump, run, and row.
For who among us is ashamed to belong
To Cleveburn, with men that are spry, and are strong,
As Bill, Jim, and Joe?

FULL CHORUS

It is done; they have won; then, hurrah!