OLD SHEPHERD'S PRAYER
Charlotte Mew (1869-1928)

One reason for my poem-a-week idea was to introduce poets like Charlotte Mew to those who don't know her work. If I continue this effort long enough, I will revisit Mew's work several more times. This week, I will begin with a poem of hers that I particularly enjoy now that I have moved to my farm in the Shenandoah Valley. The reason will be apparent when you read it.

Mew's life was marked by poverty and personal tragedy. Several of her siblings died as children, and two others were committed to a mental hospital when they were quite young. When her father died, she and her mother and her sister Anne gradually became quite poor. She became reclusive after the death of her mother, and committed suicide in 1928 shortly after the death of her sister. She published one small book of 17 poems in 1916, named after her most famous poem, The Farmer's Bride. This book was republished in 1921 with the addition of 11 more poems. After her death, another volume, entitled The Rambling Sailor (a copy of which I happen to own) contained 32 previously unpublished poems, including this one.

Mew's poetry, which first appeared in various magazines, was admired by, among other contemporaries of hers, Ezra Pound and Edith Sitwell. Thomas Hardy described her as "far and away the best living woman poet." So, without further adieu, here is the Old Shepherd's Prayer.

OLD SHEPHERD'S PRAYER

Up to the bed by the window, where I be lyin',
Comes bells and bleat of the flock wi' they two children's clack.
Over, from under the eaves there's the starlings flyin',
And down in yard, fit to burst his chain, yapping out at Sue I do hear young Mac.

Turning around like a falled-over sack
I can see team plowin' in Whithy-bush field and meal carts startin' up road to
Church-Town;
Saturday afternoon the men goin' back
And the women from market, trapin' home over the down.

Heavenly Master, I wud like to wake to they same green places
Where I be know'd for breakin' dogs and follerin' sheep.
And if I may not walk in th' old ways and look on th' old faces
I wud sooner sleep.

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