Can you tell me maiden fair? (1892)

Perhaps one of Sir Stanley Coulton's most famous poems (soon to be published in "Tales from the Black Meadow" - (Exiled Publications)) this echoes his concerns about love and loss. After his beloved wife Dorothea died in childbirth Sir Stanley became very reclusive and spent much of his time on the North York Moors. This poem was based on a rhyme that he heard at the Plough Inn in Sleights.

Can you tell me, maiden fair

Can you tell me if or where

I shall see my child again

Walk upon the fields of men?

Will she ever stumble back

From the meadow all a’black? 

The Glass You Held Is Full (1882)

In this poem Sir Stanley Coulton reveals his state of mind in the aftermath of a fiery argument with his beloved Dorothea. She leaves so fast that her breath hangs in the air, the creak of the shutting door can still be heard as can be her retreating footsteps. Most tellingly we see the influence of his time on the North York Moors in the final stanza. There is a supernatural edge to this with her spirit still in the room with him even though she has gone. Some say that this poem forshadowed her tragic demise, indeed it had such a horrid resonance that he refused to perform it after her death.

The glass you held is full

Because you left so swift.

Your breath hangs in the air, 

My own breath makes it drift.

The door is swinging shut,

The creak still sounding out.

Your footsteps echo loud,

Your presence is in doubt.

I know you ran so fast,

Far across the meadow.

For even though you're gone,

There remains your shadow.

The Pickering Sole (1895)

This fabulous little ditty was written whilst Sir Stanley Coulton was on one of his many visits to the North York Moors. He often stayed there for weeks and would complain, on his return to his gentleman's club in London, about the damage he had done to his feet. This particular poem refers to a pair of shoes that he bought from a cobbler in Pickering. They lasted him a good five years of wandering but eventually gave up the ghost.

Oh, the Pickering sole is worn and thin

And all the buckles bent

The once fine leather is now tattered skin,

This peasant was a gent.

He walked too far, he trod too long

He promised to come home.

But the Pickering sole has sung its song

No longer can he roam.

The Pickering stocking smiles through the hole

That once had been the Pickering sole.

The Pickering foot rests on the stool

And waits for Pickering toes to cool.

Tarry Now a While My Dear (1871)

It is well known that Sir Stanley was a man of very deep feelings. He suffered from great melancholy and this was at its worst when travelling a long way from his childhood sweetheart Dorothea Walcott. They were engaged to be married in the winter of 1870. When his father sent him on an expedition to Alaska (his father was a very successful businessman who had various projects in Europe and North America) he had to bid a very tearful farewell to Dorothea. It is said that he wrote this poem on his fiancee's handkerchief before drying it in the November breeze. 

Tarry now a while my dear,

Tarry now a while.

Tarry long for all the year,

Tarry now a while.

Tarry while the grass is wet.

Tarry now it is dry.

Tarry as I laugh with thee,

Tarry whilst I cry.

Tarry here, then tarry there,

Tarry in my arms.

Tarry now without a care,

Tarry to my charms.

Tarry now a while my dear,

Tarry high and low.

Tarry with me ev'ry year.

Tarry. Do not go.