My knock and call went unanswered, so we
Walked 'round the small thatched cottage to the back.
Mistress Anne sat knitting in the garden:
In the costume of sixteen-twenty-one. She said: "I come from Step-nie and am glad
Sir, you both come from Lunnon now." She looked
Tense; worn; was summer-browned; but she bothered
About her husabnd: "out there, cutting corn." For cheer, I asked: "To please me Mistress, sing
A London ditty." Her eyes looked so far
Away. Then she sang, with a sweet, brave voice:
"Come away, oh. For it be zummer-time." While she sang, I was in Plimoth Plantation
With the Pilgrim Fathers, in their first summer.
Despite danger, I loved it was a Pilgrim.
How could I bid her four centuries Goodbye?