| She is foremost of those that I would hear praised. |
| I have gone about the house, gone up and down |
| As
a man does who has published a new book, |
| Or a young girl dressed out in her new gown, |
| And though I
have turned the talk by hook or crook |
| Until her praise should be the uppermost theme, |
| A woman spoke
of some new tale she had read, |
| A man confusedly in a half dream |
| As though some other name ran in
his head. |
| She is foremost of those that I would hear praised. |
| I will talk no more of books or the long
war |
| But walk by the dry thorn until I have found |
| Some beggar sheltering from the wind, and there |
| Manage
the talk until her name come round. |
| If there be rags enough he will know her name |
| And be well pleased
remembering it, for in the old days, |
| Though she had young men’s praise and old men’s blame, |
| Among
the poor both old and young gave her praise. |