The Ballad of Johnny Trimbold

July 11, 2015 - Poetry

Little Jonny Trimbold tumbled
Across the cold and brittle mould.
His steps were lowered and faltered
Before the master’s heavy halter.

Arise oh Johnny arise
Came another’s cries
Though deaf on Johnny’s ears.

Up now stumbled Johhny Trimbold
Driven on by lashes and thorns
Heedless then of the growing scorn
Growing within his head anon.

Press on oh Johnny press on
Came the voice of calm
But fell deaf on Johnny’s ears.

Johnny Trimbold still pulled the weight
Though aged and hard his akward gait
Pulled him across the silent mould,
And sighed for weary in the cold.

Come stay oh Johnny, come stay
Whispered the voice again
But deaf on Johnny’s ears.

At last brought down from toil and strife
No longer was cut by lash or knife
Johnny set down his deep despair
Each guilty brick to time and air.

To rest, dear Johnny, to rest
A call so soft and breathless
Tho deaf, now Johnny could hear.

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