Poems of George Meredith, vol 3 | Page 3

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Poems by George Meredith--Volume 3
A STAVE OF ROVING TIM
(ADDRESSED TO CERTAIN
FRIENDLY TRAMPS.)
I
The wind is East, the wind is West,
Blows in and out of haven;
The
wind that blows is the wind that's best,
And croak, my jolly raven!

If here awhile we jigged and laughed,
The like we will do yonder;

For he's the man who masters a craft,
And light as a lord can wander.

So, foot the measure, Roving Tim,
And croak, my jolly raven!

The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
II
You live in rows of snug abodes,
With gold, maybe, for counting;

And mine's the beck of the rainy roads
Against the sun a-mounting.

I take the day as it behaves,
Nor shiver when 'tis airy;
But comes a
breeze, all you are on waves,
Sick chickens o' Mother Carey!
So,
now for next, cries Roving Tim,
And croak, my jolly raven!
The
wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.

III
Sweet lass, you screw a lovely leer,
To make a man consider.
If you
were up with the auctioneer,
I'd be a handsome bidder.
But wedlock
clips the rover's wing;
She tricks him fly to spider;
And when we
get to fights in the Ring,
It's trumps when you play outsider.
So,
wrench and split, cries Roving Tim,
And croak, my jolly raven!
The
wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
IV
Along my winding way I know
A shady dell that's winking;
The
very corner for Self and Co
To do a world of thinking.
And shall I
this? and shall I that?
Till Nature answers, ne'ther!
Strike match and
light your pipe in your hat,
Rejoicing in sound shoe-leather!
So lead
along, cries Roving Tim,
And croak, my jolly raven!
The wind
according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
V
A cunning hand 'll hand you bread,
With freedom for your capers.

I'm not so sure of a cunning head;
It steers to pits or vapours.
But as
for Life, we'll bear in sight
The lesson Nature teaches;
Regard it in
a sailoring light,
And treat it like thirsty leeches.
So, fly your jib,
cries Roving Tim,
And top your boom, old raven!
The wind
according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
VI
She'll take, to please her dame and dad,
The shopman nicely shaven.

She'll learn to think o' the marching lad
When perchers show
they're craven.
You say the shopman piles a heap,
While I perhaps
am fasting;

And bless your wits, it haunts him in sleep,
His
tin-kettle chance of lasting!
So hail the road, cries Roving Tim,
And
hail the rain, old raven!
The wind according to its whim
Is in and

out of haven.
VII
He's half a wife, yon pecker bill;
A book and likewise preacher.

With any soul, in a game of skill,
He'll prove your over-reacher.

The reason is, his brains are bent
On doing things right single.

You'd wish for them when pitching your tent
At night in a whirly
dingle!
So, off we go, cries Roving Tim,
And on we go, old raven!

The wind according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
VIII
Lord, no, man's lot is not for bliss;
To call it woe is blindness:
It'll
here a kick, and it's there a kiss,
And here and there a kindness.
He
starts a hare and calls her joy;
He runs her down to sorrow:
The
dogs within him bother the boy,
But 'tis a new day to-morrow.
So, I
at helm, cries Roving Tim,
And you at bow, old raven!
The wind
according to its whim
Is in and out of haven.
JUMP-TO-GLORY JANE
I
A revelation came on Jane,
The widow of a labouring swain:
And
first her body trembled sharp,
Then all the woman was a harp
With
winds along the strings; she heard,
Though there was neither tone nor
word.
II
For past our hearing was the air,
Beyond our speaking what it bare,

And she within herself had sight
Of heaven at work to cleanse
outright,
To make of her a mansion fit
For angel hosts inside to sit.
III

They entered, and forthwith entranced,
Her body braced, her
members danced;
Surprisingly the woman leapt;
And countenance
composed she kept:
As gossip neighbours in the lane
Declared, who
saw and pitied Jane.
IV
These knew she had been reading books,
The which was witnessed
by her looks
Of late: she had a mania
For mad folk in America,

And said for sure they led the way,
But meat and beer were meant to
stay.
V
That she had visited a fair,
Had seen a gauzy lady there,
Alive