Page:Poems Jackson.djvu/81

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BALLAD OF THE GOLD COUNTRY.
49
Purple and red, to left, to right,
For miles the gorgeous vintage blazed;
And all day long and into night
The vintage song was raised.

And wine ran free all thirst beyond,
And no hand stinted bread or meat;
And maids were gay, and men were fond,
And hours were swift and sweet.

The beggar-men they worked with will;
Their hands were thin and lithe and strong;
Each day they ate good two days' fill,
They had been starved so long.

The vintage drew to end. New wine
From thousand casks was dripping slow,
And bare and yellow fields gave sign
For vintagers to go.

The beggar-men received their pay,
Bright yellow gold,—twice their demand;
The master, as they turned away,
Held out his brawny hand,

And said: "Good men, this time next year
My vintage will be bigger still;
Come back, if chance should bring you near,
And it should suit your will."

The beggars nodded. But at night
They said: "No more we go that way:
He did not know us then; he might
Upon another day!"