  Came Doctor Frome of Quickemshow 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. 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, 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, 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, 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. |
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