THE DOCTOR

Quick trotting after Major Howe

Came Doctor Frome of Quickemshow,

A smiling silent man whose brain

Knew all of every secret pain

In every man and woman there.

Their inmost lives were all laid bare

To him, because he touched their lives

When strong emotions sharp as knives

Brought out what sort of soul each was.

As secret as the graveyard grass

He was, as he had need to be.

At some time he had had to see

Each person there, sans clothes, sans mask,

Sans lying even, when to ask

Probed a tamed spirit into truth.

Richard, his son, a jolly youth

Rode with him, fresh from Thomas's,

As merry as a yearling is

In maytime in a clover patch.

He was a gallant chick to hatch

Big, brown and smiling, blithe and kind,

With all his father's love of mind

And greater force to give it act.

To see him when the scrum was packt,

Heave, playing forward, was a sight.

His tackling was the crowd's delight

In many a danger close to goal.

The pride in the three quarter's soul

Dropped, like a wet rag, when he collared.

He was as steady as a bollard,

And gallant as a skysail yard.

He rode a chestnut mare which sparred.

In good St. Thomas’ Hospital,

He was the crown imperial

Of all the scholars of his year.

The Harold lads, from Tencombe Weir,

Came all on foot in corduroys,

Poor widowed Mrs. Harold's boys,

Dick, Hal and Charles, whose father died.

( Will Masemore shot him in the side

By accident at Masemore Farm.

A hazel knocked Will Masemore's arm

In getting through a hedge; his gun

Was not half-cocked, so it was done

And those three boys left fatherless. )

Their gaitered legs were in a mess

With good red mud from twenty ditches

Hal's face was plastered like his breeches,

Dick chewed a twig of juniper.

They kept at distance from the stir

Their loss had made them lads apart.

Next came the Colway's pony cart

From Coln St. Evelyn's with the party,

Hugh Colway jovial, bold and hearty,

And Polly Colway's brother, John

( Their horses had been both sent on )

And Polly Colway drove them there.

Poor pretty Polly Colway's hair.

The grey mare killed her at the brook

Down Seven Springs Mead at Water Hook,

Just one month later, poor sweet woman.