The Level Day
Oh, the day and the dark came up the lane
And met at the top field gate,
And the day said, “I’ve had the best o’ the year,
And now I mun go, for it’s late.”
So light the lamp at the end o’ the day
And bank the fire up high,
For the swallows are gone from the Harrop wire
And the dark’s come up to bide.
The swallows sat on the Harrop wire,
Two-and-twenty in a row,
And they talked of the sun on the far side o’ the sea
And the long road they mun go.
And I never saw them rise and turn,
And I never saw them fly;
I only saw the empty wire
Ruled clean across the sky.
So light the lamp at the end o’ the day
And bank the fire up high,
For the swallows are gone from the Harrop wire
And the dark’s come up to bide.
The dark said, “Now it’s mine to keep
Till the curlews come again,”
And it laid its coat on the Dobcross roofs
And its cap upon the Tame.
But there’s one as comes up the lane at dusk
On a bicycle, wet through,
And the dark may keep what the dark has won,
But it’ll not keep her from a brew.
So light the lamp at the end o’ the day
And set the kettle on,
For the swallows are gone from the Harrop wire,
But not everyone’s gone.