EDMUND BLUNDEN
ALMSWOMEN
AT Quincey's moat the squandering village ends,
And there in the almshouse dwell the dearest
friends
Of all the village, two old dames that cling
As close as any true-loves in the spring.
Long, long ago they passed threescore-and-ten, 5
And in this doll's house lived together then;
All things they have in common, being so poor,
And their one fear, Death's shadow at the door.
Each sundown makes them mournful, each sunrise
Brings back the brightness in their failing eyes. 10
How happy go the rich fair-weather days
When on the roadside folk stare in amaze
At such a honeycomb of fruit and flowers
As mellows round their threshold; what long hours
They gloat upon their steepling hollyhocks, 15
Bee's balsams, feathery southernwood, and stocks,
Fiery dragon?s-mouths, great mallow leaves
For salves, and lemon-plants in bushy sheaves,
Shagged Esau's-hands with fine green finger-tips,
Such old sweet names are ever on their lips- 20
As pleased as little children where these grow
In cobbled pattens and worn gowns they go,
Proud of their wisdom when on gooseberry shoots
They stuck eggshells to fright from coming fruits
The brisk-billed rascals,; pausing still to see 25
Their neighbour owls saunter from tree to tree,
383.