��HIS ONLY WAY
I STOOD to-day high on the Downs And talked long with a shepherd lad ;
I found him pondering by his sheep, Motionless, staring-eyed, and sad.
But, leaning on his Pyecombe crook — Long polished by his father's hand —
He told, with slow-tongued eagerness, This love-tale of his Sussex land :
"Me and my mate, Dick, loved a girl. But he was always down at plough,
And in and out the village, like, And — well, he 'listed, anyhow ;
"While I bides up here 'long me sheep;
And our girl, though she liked us two Equal it seemed, she took his ring —
As, sure, she'd right enough to do.
"Well, Dick he fought and met his death, Somewheres in Flanders, so 'tis said ;
And I can't go to her, I feels.
Because of Dick there lying dead.
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