In green fields, beyond Ickleford,
There flowed a tiny stream,
On either side of which a cottage stood,
He in his, and she in hers, both with this dream:
Never to be separated, by drought, or flood,
And yet: by timidity, or doubt, they neither spoke
Of this:
Her wish, and his wish, to bridge the brook,
To hold each other in their arms – and kiss!
Until, one day,
A fencing having failed,
Her geese escaped, and made their way,
Across the little stream they sailed,
And in his woodshed sheltered from the storm;
Whereby, he tempting them with grain,
He brought them, squabbling, to her door,
Repaired the fence again,
And left them safely evermore.
And she, who from her window saw
His kindness, came out and bravely said:
“Will you be mine, and I be yours?
And in St. Katharine’s stand and pledge,
You to me, and I to you,
Faithfully, for evermore?”
He took, and kissed her, this is true,
And, it being February 1834,
They wed, and lived,
And prospered,
In green fields, beyond Ickleford.
