Poems (Jenkins)/Wind-pedlars

by Elinor Jenkins

Wind-pedlars

PURPLE and grey the vacant moor lies spread
 And all the storms of heaven sweep and cry
Among the barrows of forgotten dead,
 Who died as we shall die.

There dwelt of yore, upon such desert land,
 Strange merchants of a stranger merchandise,
Who stole the Winds from out God's hollowed hand
 And loosed them, at a price.

Thither mayhap the reiving marchman rode
 And bought a gale to ruffle the red cock
That he would set upon his foe's abode,
 And leave no standing stock.

And thither, with hearts tossing to and fro
 On stormy seas, came foolish maids and fain,
And chaffered for a favouring wind to blow
 Their lovers home again.

Oh, were such mighty witches living still,
 Whose whistle tempests and light airs obeyed,
We have more need the wind should do our will
 Than e'er had love-sick maid.

At body's peril and in soul's despite
 We would give all we had of gold and gem
For a west wind, where our beloved fight,
 To blow the reek from them.

But these wind-pedlars with their hard-earned fee
 Mocked and forsaken of the fiend their sire
'Spite of all powers of spell and gramarye
 Passed long ago in fire.

So to High God let humble prayers be said,
 From bursting hearts that wait in vain, and He
In His good time, when all your dears are dead,
 May stoop to answer ye.