Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE BUNTY SHOE, by JAMES E. RICHARDSON


Poetry Explorer

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

THE BUNTY SHOE, by                    
First Line: O husband, husband, yours the sin
Last Line: Was better stuff than he!
Subject(s): Towns


"O Husband, Husband, yours the sin
That spake unkindlily;
I've gone with him that loved me well:
Ye need not seek for me!"

The lamp was lit, the lamp was out,
The cook-stove only glowed;
The gun was gone that I might have
To bear along the road.

With a hundred houses in the town,
The town where I was born,
There was none could look upon my face,
And ever give me scorn!

The road ran right, the road ran left,
As sure as sure could be;
'Twas twenty miles to Philadelphia,
And fifty to the sea.

And thrice I looked unto the left,
And thrice unto the right;
And thrice upon the written word
That bid me to the night.

And thrice I spat into my hand
And struck the spittle free;
And thrice the Devil's compass said
The road that led to sea.

The first house was my own house,
The house where I was born;
I have drawn the coals unto the floor,
That none shall give me scorn.

The second house was the landlord's house,
I have tossed him in the key;
And a hundred dollars in good green money
To set the mortgage free.

'Tis a hundred dollars in good green money,
And well bespent, said he;
'Tis a hundred dollars in good green money
And now I let ye free;
'Tis a hundred dollars in good green money
And will ye drink with me?

I'll not come in to ye, landlord,
This bitter night and frore;
A good warm fire and a good good-even;
Go in and bar the door!

The third house was the blacksmith's house,
The fallow land thereby;
Beside the forge stood English George;
I knew he would not lie.

A hundred dollars in good green money
Of my Uncle Sam's decree
If ye may name the bog-bred thief
That stole my gun from me!

He has never looked up from the bellows-rod
Beside the anvil-tree;
He has taken the red bar in the tongs
And made the sparkles flee;
Get thee to Hell! cries English George;
I'll punch the head of thee!

We'll see to that, O English George,
There's other work in hand;
The road may run the length of Hell,
But not at thy command;

We'll see to that when I come back,
Ye bearded chimpanzee;
We'll see to that when I come back
From jail or gallows-tree!

Beside the forge stood English George,
Nor left the anvil-side;
When thou come back, cried English George;
Thank God he had not lied!

Good time, good time, when I come back
To play at fall and stand;
There's plenty time 'twixt now and then,
And other work in hand;
. . Three miles along macadam road,
And then I struck the sand.

The first mile was a red mile,
The fire burnt fair and free;
O red red cheeks of the false woman
To burn the heart in me!

The second mile was a yellow mile,
The fire went mad with glee;
O yellow hair of the false false woman
To burn the soul in me!

The third mile was a black mile,
As black as char could be;
O black black heart of the false villain
That stole my love from me!

It's forty-seven mile to Tuckerton Town,
The road runs trim and true;
And never the track but the track of a horse
That wears a bunty shoe!

O silver-tongued lawyer of Tuckerton Town,
To think you could me fool!
I saw the track of the bunty shoe
On every frozen pool!

'Tis a long long road to Tuckerton Town
By sandway, swamp and spung;
And here's the track of the bunty shoe,
And here's the steaming dung;

And here's an empty cracker-box
And here's a crust of bread;
And here's a comb with a broken tooth
That came from my wife's head.

And it's plod and plod the long sand road
To Tuckerton by the sea;
And it's yet I'll slit the silver tongue
That won my love from me!

And it's plod and plod the long sand road
Between the blasted pine;
And the mackerel cloud comes over the moon,
And it's, Hear the sea-wind whine;
And the snow comes down by hour and hour
Till it's, Mind the wagon-line!

The snow comes down, the snow comes fast,
From Ong's to Woodmansie;
There's never a track in the long sand road
Could ever a lawyer see!

The snow comes down, the snow comes fast,
The snow comes to the knee;
And never a track for that man's eye,
Only a man's like me.

The sea-wind whips, the sea-wind grips,
The sea-wind keeps me true;
For none may see the little hook-tracks,
Nor yet the tire-tracks two;
O woe unto the little horse
That wears the bunty shoe!

The night wears on, the morning comes,
The left eye's frozen sealed;
And where away are the green green hills
That lead to Munion Field?

O where away are the green green hills
That Summer joys to know?
The bearberry bush and the dwarf pine
Are mounded under snow.

The first hill was a gravel hill
Unto the county stone;
There was no other in any man's eye
Save this one hill alone.

The second hill is a sand hill
To tease me as I go;
A half foot of the hoofturned sand,
Three foot of tumbled snow.

The third hill is a sand hill,
A cruel hill and true;
And there lies the little horse
That wears the bunty shoe.

O silver-tongued lawyer of Tuckerton Town,
How is't ye do not shoot?
Ye have taken my honor, ye have taken my wife,
Ye have taken my gun to boot!

O silver-tongued lawyer of Tuckerton Town,
How is't ye do not speak?
The tongue that saved the many man's neck,
It will not even creak;
The tear that sprung to the least man's dollar
Is frozen on your cheek!

O golden-haired woman of Wescoat Town,
What shall ye say to me?
'Tis twenty mile to Tuckerton Town
And five to Woodmansie;
Shall I lay ye deep in the snow and the sand
Where never man shall see?

O husband, husband, mine the sin
That wrought so woefully;
The waxen man that sits here dead,
He swore of love to me;
O husband mine, I craved that word
I never heard from ye!

O a tongue's a tongue, and a hand's a hand,
And the tongue that man had he
And the tongue's love and the hand's love,
Which bids the other love flee?

O husband, husband, mine the sin;
What made ye come to me?
Ye may kill me once, ye may kill me twice,
But swear ye once loved me!

I loved you once, I loved you twice,
As any man could see;
Come tell me now, or ever ye pass,
What have ye done to me?

O, he told me his love the first hour,
As sweet as sweet could be;
He told me his love the second hour,
With a word of less degree;

He told me his love the next hour,
That swore to love ye true;
And sore he beat the little horse
That wears the bunty shoe.

The snow came down the next hour,
As cold as cold could be;
Save only the blood of the silver-tongued lawyer
That took my cloak from me!

I called on him the next hour,
I knew that he would die;
The blood in him was frozen half
Or ever the snow-filled sky.

O husband, husband, mine the sin!
'Twas then I loved ye true;
Forgive, forgive, as God forgives,
And take me home with you!

There's no home above our head,
O woman fair and free;
There's no home above our head
From Wescoat to the sea!

O husband, husband, mine the sin
That wrought such bitter rue;
By roof or sky, until I die,
I'll naught but follow you!

O, the silver-tongued lawyer of Tuckerton Town,
I have pitched him in the snow;
For the little red horse with the bunty shoe,
He will no longer go;

I have taken my wife in my arms again
The way to Woodmansie;
Five long long miles by snow and sand,
-- Five days she sat by me.

I've a hundred dollars in good green money.
I've a hundred and fifty-three;
If the lawyer lies on Munion Hill
I have not gone to see;
The wife, by God, for all her faults,
Was better stuff than he!





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