Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . and slandering me, the base little liar!But the tongue is a fire as you know, my dear, the tongue is a fire. VIII. And the parson made it his text that week, and he said a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies, The Grandmother. 327 That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright,But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight. And Willy had not been down to the farm for aweek and a day ; And all things lookd half-dead, tho it was themiddle of May. Jenny, to slander me, who knew what Jenny hadbee
Maud, Locksley hall, and other poems . and slandering me, the base little liar!But the tongue is a fire as you know, my dear, the tongue is a fire. VIII. And the parson made it his text that week, and he said a lie which is half a truth is ever the blackest of lies, The Grandmother. 327 That a lie which is all a lie may be met and fought with outright,But a lie which is part a truth is a harder matter to fight. And Willy had not been down to the farm for aweek and a day ; And all things lookd half-dead, tho it was themiddle of May. Jenny, to slander me, who knew what Jenny hadbeen ! But soiling another, Annie, will never make one-self clean. And I cried myself well-nigh blind, and all of an evening lateI climbd to the top of the garth, and stood by the road at the moon like a rick on fire was rising over the dale,And whit, whit, whit, in the bush beside me chir- rupt the nightingale. All of a sudden he stopt : there past by the gate of the farm,Willy,— he didnt see me,— and Jenny hung on his arm,. Th* moon Ilk* a f Jck oni . ... ^»-^ (328) The Grandinoiher. 329 Out into the road I started, and spoke I scarce knew how ;Ah, theres no fool like the old one — it makes me angry now. Willy stood up like a man, and lookd the thing that he meant;Jenny, the viper, made me a mocking curtsey and I said, I^et us part : in a hundred years itll all be the same,You cannot love me at all, if you love not my good name. And he turnd, and I saw his eyes all wet, in the sweet moonshine : Sweetheart, I love you so well that your good name is what do I care for Jane, let her speak of you well or ill ;But marry me out of hand: we two shall be happy still. Marry you, Willy! said I, but I needs must speak my mind,And I fear youll listen to tales, be jealous and hard and unkind. 330 The Grandmother. But he turnd and claspt me in his arms, and an- swerd, No, love, no ; Seventy years ago, my darling, seventy years ago. XV. So Willy and I were wed
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