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William Blake - Blind Man`s Buff
Work rating: Medium

When silver snow decks Susan`s clothes,
And jewel hangs at th` shepherd`s nose,
The blushing bank is all my care,
With hearth so red, and walls so fair;
`Heap the sea-coal, come, heap it higher,
The oaken log lay on the fire.`
The well-wash`d stools, a circling row,
With lad and lass, how fair the show!
The merry can of nut-brown ale,
The laughing jest, the love-sick tale,
Till, tir`d of chat, the game begins.
The lasses prick the lads with pins;
Roger from Dolly twitch`d the stool,
She, falling, kiss`d the ground, poor fool!
She blush`d so red, with sidelong glance
At hob-nail Dick, who griev`d the chance.
But now for Blind man`s Buff they call;
Of each encumbrance clear the hall—
Jenny her silken `kerchief folds,
And blear-eyed Will the black lot holds.
Now laughing stops, with `Silence! hush!`
And Peggy Pout gives Sam a push.
The Blind man`s arms, extended wide,
Sam slips between:—`O woe betide
Thee, clumsy Will!`—but titt`ring Kate
Is penn`d up in the corner straight!
And now Will`s eyes beheld the play;
He thought his face was t`other way.
`Now, Kitty, now! what chance hast thou,
Roger so near thee!—Trips, I vow!`
She catches him—then Roger ties
His own head up—but not his eyes;
For thro` the slender cloth he sees,
And runs at Sam, who slips with ease
His clumsy hold; and, dodging round,
Sukey is tumbled on the ground!—
`See what it is to play unfair!
Where cheating is, there`s mischief there.`
But Roger still pursues the chase,—
`He sees! he sees!` cries, softly, Grace;
`O Roger, thou, unskill`d in art,
Must, surer bound, go thro` thy part!`
Now Kitty, pert, repeats the rimes,
And Roger turns him round three times,
Then pauses ere he starts—but Dick
Was mischief bent upon a trick;
Down on his hands and knees he lay
Directly in the Blind man`s way,
Then cries out `Hem!` Hodge heard, and ran
With hood-wink`d chance—sure of his man;
But down he came. — Alas, how frail
Our best of hopes, how soon they fail!
With crimson drops he stains the ground;
Confusion startles all around.
Poor piteous Dick supports his head,
And fain would cure the hurt he made.
But Kitty hasted with a key,
And down his back they straight convey
The cold relief; the blood is stay`d,
And Hodge again holds up his head.
Such are the fortunes of the game,
And those who play should stop the same
By wholesome laws; such as all those
Who on the blinded man impose
Stand in his stead; as, long a-gone,
When men were first a nation grown,
Lawless they liv`d, till wantonness
A 1000 nd liberty began t` increase,
And one man lay in another`s way;
Then laws were made to keep fair play.
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