HOBNELIA. Hobnelia, seated in a dreary vale, In pensive mood rehears'd her piteous tale, Her piteous tale the winds in sighs bemoan, And pining eccho answers groan for groan. I rue the day, a rueful day, I trow, The woful day, a day indeed of woe! When Lubberkin to town his cattle drove, A maiden fine bedight he hapt to love; The maiden fine bedight his love retains, And for the village he forsakes the plains. Return my Lubberkin, these ditties hear; Spells will I try, and spells shall ease my care. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. When first the year, I heard the cuckow sing, And call with welcome note the budding spring, I straitway set a running with such haste, Deb'rah, who won the smock, scarce ran so fast. 'Till spent for lack of breath, quite weary grown, Upon a rising bank I sat adown, Then doff'd my shoe, and by my troth, I swear, Therein I spy'd this yellow frizled hair, As like to Lubberkin's in curl and hue, As if upon his comely pate it grew. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. At eve last Midsummer no sleep I sought, But to the field a bag of hemp-seed brought, I scatter'd round the seed on ev'ry side, And three times in a trembling accent cry'd, This hemp-seed with my virgin hand I sow, Who shall my true-love be, the crop shall mow. I strait look'd back, and if my eyes speak truth, With his keen scythe behind me came the youth. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. Last Valentine, the day when birds of kind Their paramours with mutual chirpings find; I rearly rose, just at the break of day, Before the sun had chas'd the stars away; A-field I went, amid the morning dew To milk my kine (for so should huswives do;) Thee first I spy'd, and the first swain we see, In spite of fortune shall our true-love be; See, Lubberkin, each bird his partner take, And canst thou then thy sweatheart dear forsake? With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. Last May-day fair I search'd to find a snail That might my secret lover's name reveal; Upon a gooseberry bush a snail I found, For always snails near sweetest fruit abound. I seiz'd the vermine, home I quickly sped, And on the hearth the milk-white embers spread. Slow crawl'd the snail, and if I right can spell, In the soft ashes mark'd a curious L: Oh, may this wondrous omen lucky prove! For L is found in Lubberkin and Love. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. Two hazel-nuts I threw into the flame, And to each nut I gave a sweet-heart's name. This with the loudest bounce me sore amaz'd, That in a flame of brightest colour blaz'd. As blaz'd the nut so may thy passion grow, For 'twas thy nut that did so brightly glow. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. As peascods once I pluck'd, I chanc'd to see One that was closely fill'd with three times three, Which when I cropp'd I safely home convey'd, And o'er my door the spell in secret laid. My wheel I turn'd, and sung a ballad new, While from the spindle I the fleeces drew The latch mov'd up, when who should first come in, But in his proper person, -- Lubberkin. I broke my yarn surpriz'd the sight to see, Sure sign that he would break his word with me. Eftsoons I join'd it with my wonted slight, So may again his love with mine unite! With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. This Lady-fly I take from off the grass, Whose spotted back might scarlet red surpass. Fly, Lady-Bird, North, South, or East or West, Fly where the Man is found that I love best. He leaves my hand, see, to the West he's flown, To call my true-love from the faithless town. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground. And turn me thrice around, around, around. I pare this pippin round and round again, My shepherd's name to flourish on the plain. I fling th' unbroken paring o'er my head, Upon the grass a perfect L is read; Yet on my heart a fairer L is seen Than what the paring marks upon the green. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. This pippin shall another tryal make, See from the core two kernels brown I take; This on my cheek for Lubberkin is worn, And Boobyclod on t' other side is born. But Boobyclod soon drops upon the ground, A certain token that his love's unsound, While Lubberkin sticks firmly to the last; Oh were his lips to mine but join'd so fast! With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. As Lubberkin once slept beneath a tree, I twitch'd his dangling garter from his knee; He wist not when the hempen string I drew, Now mine I quickly doff of inkle blue; Together fast I tye the garters twain, And while I knit the knot repeat this strain. Three times a true-love's knot I tye secure, Firm be the knot, firm may his love endure. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. As I was wont, I trudg'd last market-day To town, with new-laid eggs preserv'd in hay. I made my market long before 'twas night, My purse grew heavy and my basket light. Strait to the pothecary's shop I went, And in love-powder all my mony spent; Behap what will, next Sunday after prayers, When to the ale-house Lubberkin repairs, These golden flies into his mug I'll throw, And soon the swain with fervent love shall glow. With my sharp heel I three times mark the ground, And turn me thrice around, around, around. But hold -- our Light-foot barks, and cocks his ears, O'er yonder stile see Lubberkin appears. He comes, he comes, Hobnelia's not bewray'd, Nor shall she crown'd with willow die a maid. He vows, he swears, he'll give me a green gown, Oh dear! I fall adown, adown, adown! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HOMAGE TO SEXTUS PROPERTIUS: 2 by EZRA POUND EPITAPH ON A HARE by WILLIAM COWPER THE COMING OF SPRING by NORA PERRY |