1ryL 



Anne Hathaway 



By Edmund Falconer 

 A traditionary ballad sung to a day- 

 Ireamer by the murmur of Shottery Brook. 

 \ T o beard on thy chin, but a fire in thine 



to • 



ake 



listen 



jldest foil* 

 forsake, 



aver the fields at th 

 May, 



And give thy boy's heart unto A 



Hie 



way. 



that 



first blush of 

 Hatli- 



She'sa stout yoemaj 



herself, 

 She'll marry an esqu 

 'Tis just ten years \ 

 hood's 



s daughter and prizes 



"She ha 



la 



bors 



she 



ied 



Hathaway." 

 That day ten years past— it 

 rchards i 



iaid, "Nay, I'll bide my 

 5!" All the kind neigh- 

 stripling, has Anne 



tim 



And the Shotti 

 full prime 

 Young Willie c 



• fror 



•ere in their 

 Stratford to 



If any windfalls i 

 "For a kiss or 



today?" 

 "Why, for both," said the 



Anne Hathaway. 



The farm 

 "I've klr 



r he s 



The 



little boy 

 how true 

 "When ! am 



Anne stooped 

 said, in n 



1 the ! 



ired 



dreaming 

 :theart, she cannot 

 d kissed him, and 



An 



You 

 Willie 



icr launched loud, "What a fine 

 i he be, 



kiss the wee laddie and ne'er 



Or you'd not want 'No' said more than 

 once and again." , . 



The farmer trudged off, and scarce bade 

 them good da}', 



And the boy ate sour apples with Anne 

 Hathaway. 



went over, and "Anne's 

 stacking, said shepherds 



Then long year: 

 hard to pi 

 Said yeomen at 



Till she went o'er io Welford to see the 



And met 'there'' little Willie, just aged 



eighteen; , 

 Who, slighting young lasses, was heard ott 



to B ay. 



"That the queen of all queens there was 

 Anne Hathaway." 



At sundown the shortest way home he 



could show. ,, . 



O'er the ford and by field paths (much 



But Iff lilk6d ^H^the way with such mar- I 



vellous skill, . ivij 



Anne doubted her eyes when they reached 



Bawdon Hill; + „ 1 



And at Shottery_ Brook she d no power to 



,When Sa he"sa a id," "You're my sweetheart, 

 proud Anne Hathaway. 



• th 



Be ca 



And Anne, hall 

 him along, 



But the full-br 

 speare's lo 

 • Swept her will, i 



"It was wooing 

 folks say. 



"For the green 

 Hathaway. 



8 fields at the next even- | 



-ashamed, stole to meet 



■asted passion of Shak- 

 /e-dream 



rhere it willed, like a waif 

 ind wedding at once," the 

 callant Willie and Anne 



Now, a matron demure, Anne a formal 



life led, I — 

 She got up betimes and went early to bed; 

 But Willie, at sundown, when staid folks 



went home, 

 Hied up Welcomb Hill through the wild 



woods to roam; 

 Or would sit by the fire till the fresh 



blush of day, 

 Writing sonnets, sheer nonsense, to Anne 



Hathaway, 



A store of old saws Anne could speak oft 



And oft wanted Willie their wisdom to 



And he listened at times, but provokingly 

 smiled, 



Like a sage brought to book by an over- 

 wise child, 



Or, strangely perverting, with new rhymes, 



each say, 



Took the wind from the sails of poor 

 Anne Hathaway. 



In the woods around Charlecote, the moon 



thought one night 

 'Twas Endymion again singing hymns to 



her light; 



But the parkkeepers knew it was Will, and 



That the buck some sly poacher had just 



tumbled o'er 

 Had been slain bv his hand, and, for all 



Will could say, 

 He was stocked as a scapegrace— sad 



Anne Hathaway! 



Then Willie, who chafed under sense of 



deep wrong. 

 From Apollo's own bow sent a shaft m 



Whiclf pricked and so venomed the knight 

 Lucy's breast. 



That his frowns and his threats all the 

 Shakspeares opprest; 



So Will for their sakes fled from Strat- 

 ford away, 



And left a grass-widow in Anne Hathaway. 



To her father's home then Anne as house- 

 keeper went, 

 And sad months and years half-dependent 



For th§ old folks in hard times were 



tesly, cross-grained, 

 And oft of her chidren a,s burdens com- 



And in their 'best tempers were still heard 



as the marriage of Anne 



''Ths 



Hat 



By the wagon from London a small packet 



"For ve Mistress Anne, Hymen Shakspeare 



did name!" 

 In it were kind words and of high hopes 



a store. 



But good moneys too, and a promise of 



Which ''was kept in due season, and made 



the folks say 

 That some wives were worse off than 



Anne Hathaway. 



Next came down rich dresses that made 



poor Anne stare. 

 She was fearful to handle and much more 



to wear; 



When to church in the plainest she one 



Sunday went. 

 All eyes in astonishment on her were bent; 

 But Anne tossed her Head, for she heard 



the folks say, 

 That a far-seeing wench had been Anne 



Hathaway. 



The newsmongers, now that the Scots 

 Queen was dead, 



And the Spanish Armada thrashed, cap- 

 tured, or fled, 



And laid up were Frobisher, Hawkins, and 

 Drake, 



Of Shakspeare's new fortunes much marvel 



did make; 



And when the truth failed them would 



whisper and say 

 That the Queen was thought, jealous of 



Anne Hathaway. 



With faith in broad acres, full barns, 



flocks and herds, 

 Anne doubted much profit from rhymes 



and fine words; 

 She saw no work done to insure wealth 



of gold, 



In the distance its growth but a dream- 

 life could hold, - 

 From which waking up, her boy-husband, 



one day, 



Might come home broken-hearted to Anne 



Hathaway. 



On 



For 



bri 



autumn deep sadness came 

 she filled in the well near 

 e apple she found by the 

 i gift it had once 



And she thought 



been for him. 

 A drop specked its bloom, and it came 



spite of "Nay," 

 From thy heart, not the cold well, proud 

 Anne Hathaway. 



She set down the pitcher and leaned o'er 



the gate, 



To tell the young truants their supper did 



r the 



ridge, just a stone's 



rone 



who 



ned'a great lord unto Anne 



Hath, 



His doublet and trunks were of velvet, 



that shone 



Like the mellow-green moss on an old 

 A plume of white 'feathers his felt hat dtd 

 -uffles were broad 

 d spurs he looked 

 s eyes then, cold 



And his col 

 Flandei 



With his bu 

 gallant 



Yet 



Hathaway. 



tdlng, and bade Judith 

 ma of the 



opened wide. 

 Then the stranger advanced, and When 



close by Anne's side, 

 Though his bearded lip quivered, did smil- 



Susannah stopped i 

 look, 



For Hamnet stood fast in the 



brook, 



With his eyes wonder-fixed, and his l 



ing 



■ay, 



apple, dear Anne 



Anne started, and trembled, and looked in 



his face. 



Oh! could it be Willie's with majesty's 



grace? 



Though it beamed youthful stilUhere the 

 For the full front of power and command j 



it i 

 And shi 



ore; 



she 



At 



back afraid when 

 ml Shakspeare say, 

 -ou know your own husband, dear 



ne Hathaway?" 



" 'Tis my father!" cried Susan, and sprung 



to his breast, 

 From that moment ever beloved there the 



best- 

 But the others he called, and with hand 



and lip graced. 

 And tenderly their coy mother embraced: 

 "When I asked for an apple you never 



said 'Nay.' 



But a kiss was a great gift from Anne 



Hathaway." 



He 



to Stratford the very next 



And bought the great house where the 

 Clapton was born, 



And rich lands round Welcomb he pur- 

 chased right out. 



And a propertied gentleman was, past all 

 doubt; 



And though the great title his fame flouts 



today, 



Still, she married an Esquire, did Anne 



Hathaway! 



