The Poetical Works of William Wordsworth Volume I Part 102

There is no need of boot or spur, There is no need of whip or wand; For Johnny has his holly-bough, And with a _hurly-burly_ now 50 He shakes the green bough in his hand.

And Betty o'er and o'er has told The Boy, who is her best delight, Both what to follow, what to shun, What do, and what to leave undone, 55 How turn to left, and how to right.

And Betty's most especial charge, Was, "Johnny! Johnny! mind that you Come home again, nor stop at all,-- Come home again, whate'er befal, 60 My Johnny, do, I pray you do."

To this did Johnny answer make, Both with his head and with his hand, And proudly shook the bridle too; And then! his words were not a few, 65 Which Betty well could understand.

And now that Johnny is just going, Though Betty's in a mighty flurry, She gently pats the Pony's side, On which her Idiot Boy must ride, 70 And seems no longer in a hurry.

But when the Pony moved his legs, Oh! then for the poor Idiot Boy!

For joy he cannot hold the bridle, For joy his head and heels are idle, 75 He's idle all for very joy.

And while the Pony moves his legs, In Johnny's left hand you may see The green bough [7] motionless and dead: The Moon that s.h.i.+nes above his head 80 Is not more still and mute than he.

His heart it was so full of glee, That till full fifty yards were gone, He quite forgot his holly whip, And all his skill in horsemans.h.i.+p: 85 Oh! happy, happy, happy John.

And while the Mother, at the door, Stands fixed, her face with joy o'erflows [8]

Proud of herself, and proud of him, She sees him in his travelling trim, 90 How quietly her Johnny goes.

The silence of her Idiot Boy, What hopes it sends to Betty's heart!

He's at the guide-post--he turns right; She watches till he's out of sight, 95 And Betty will not then depart.

Burr, burr--now Johnny's lips they burr.

As loud as any mill, or near it; Meek as a lamb the Pony moves, And Johnny makes the noise he loves, 100 And Betty listens, glad to hear it.

Away she hies to Susan Gale: Her Messenger's in merry tune; [9]

The owlets hoot, the owlets curr, And Johnny's lips they burr, burr, burr, 105 As [10] on he goes beneath the moon.

His steed and he right well agree; For of this Pony there's a rumour, That, should he lose his eyes and ears, And should he live a thousand years, 110 He never will be out of humour.

But then he is a horse that thinks!

And when he thinks, his pace is slack; Now, though he knows poor Johnny well, Yet, for his life, he cannot tell 115 What he has got upon his back.

So through the moonlight lanes they go, And far into the moonlight dale, And by the church, and o'er the down, To bring a Doctor from the town, 120 To comfort poor old Susan Gale.

And Betty, now at Susan's side, Is in the middle of her story, What speedy help her Boy will bring, [11]

With many a most diverting thing, 125 Of Johnny's wit, and Johnny's glory.

And Betty, still at Susan's side, By this time is not quite so flurried: [12]

Demure with porringer and plate She sits, as if in Susan's fate 130 Her life and soul were buried.

But Betty, poor good woman! she, You plainly in her face may read it, Could lend out of that moment's store Five years of happiness or more 135 To any that might need it.

But yet I guess that now and then With Betty all was not so well; And to the road she turns her ears, And thence full many a sound she hears, 140 Which she to Susan will not tell.

Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans; "As sure as there's a moon in heaven,"

Cries Betty, "he'll be back again; They'll both be here--'tis almost ten-- 145 Both will be [13] here before eleven."

Poor Susan moans, poor Susan groans; The clock gives warning for eleven; 'Tis on the stroke--"He must be near,"

Quoth Betty, "and will soon be here, [14] 150 As sure as there's a moon in heaven."

The clock is on the stroke of twelve, And Johnny is not yet in sight: --The Moon's in heaven, as Betty sees, But Betty is not quite at ease; 155 And Susan has a dreadful night.

And Betty, half an hour ago, On Johnny vile reflections cast: "A little idle sauntering Thing!"

With other names, an endless string; 160 But now that time is gone and past.

And Betty's drooping at the heart, That happy time all past and gone, "How can it be he is so late?

The Doctor, he has made him wait; 165 Susan! they'll both be here anon."

And Susan's growing worse and worse, And Betty's in a sad _quandary_; And then there's n.o.body to say If she must go, or she must stay! 170 --She's in a sad _quandary_.

The clock is on the stroke of one; But neither Doctor nor his Guide Appears [15] along the moonlight road; There's neither horse nor man abroad, 175 And Betty's still at Susan's side.

And Susan now begins to fear [16]

Of sad mischances not a few, That Johnny may perhaps be drowned; Or lost, perhaps, and never found; 180 Which they must both for ever rue.

She prefaced half a hint of this With, "G.o.d forbid it should be true!"

At the first word that Susan said Cried Betty, rising from the bed, 185 "Susan, I'd gladly stay with you.

"I must be gone, I must away: Consider, Johnny's but half-wise; Susan, we must take care of him, If he is hurt in life or limb"-- 190 "Oh G.o.d forbid!" poor Susan cries.

"What can I do?" says Betty, going, "What can I do to ease your pain?

Good Susan tell me, and I'll stay; I fear you're in a dreadful way, 195 But I shall soon be back again."

"Nay, Betty, [17] go! good Betty, go!

There's nothing that can ease my pain."

Then off she hies; but with a prayer That G.o.d poor Susan's life would spare, 200 Till she comes back again.

So, through the moonlight lane she goes, And far into the moonlight dale; And how she ran, and how she walked, And all that to herself she talked, 205 Would surely be a tedious tale.

In high and low, above, below, In great and small, in round and square, In tree and tower was Johnny seen, In bush and brake, in black and green; 210 'Twas Johnny, Johnny, every where.

And while she crossed the bridge, there came A thought with which her heart is sore--[18]

Johnny perhaps his horse forsook, To hunt the moon within the brook, [19] 215 And never will be heard of more.

Now is she high [20] upon the down, Alone amid a prospect wide; There's neither Johnny nor his Horse Among the fern or in the gorse; 220 There's neither Doctor nor his Guide.

"Oh saints! what is become of him?

Perhaps he's climbed into an oak, Where he will stay till he is dead; Or, sadly he has been misled, 225 And joined the wandering gipsy-folk.

"Or him that wicked Pony's carried To the dark cave, the goblin's hall; Or in the castle he's pursuing Among the ghosts his own undoing; 230 Or playing with the waterfall."

At poor old Susan then she railed, While to the town she posts away; "If Susan had not been so ill, Alas! I should have had him still, 235 My Johnny, till my dying day."

Poor Betty, in this sad distemper, The Doctor's self could [21] hardly spare: Unworthy things she talked, and wild; Even he, of cattle the most mild, 240 The Pony had his share.

But now she's fairly in the town, [22]

And to the Doctor's door she hies; 'Tis silence all on every side; The town so long, the town so wide, 245 Is silent as the skies.