10 Apr 2017 163 views
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photoblog image Weather-vane



comments (21)

  • Martine
  • France
  • 10 Apr 2017, 01:44
Cette girouette est très originale, j'aime beaucoup.
Lisl: I have never seen one like it before, Martine
That's a little ominous...
Lisl: There must be a story behind this one
  • Ray
  • United States
  • 10 Apr 2017, 05:32
a highwayman came riding
riding, riding
Lisl: I thought it was a highwayman, too, Ray
Straight out of the history books, Lisl, which is something I've not yet seen. WOW.
Lisl: Certainly very unusual, Ginnie
  • Ray
  • United States
  • 10 Apr 2017, 06:41
The Highwayman Related Poem Content Details

The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees.
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas.
The road was a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding—
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.

He’d a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin.
They fitted with never a wrinkle. His boots were up to the thigh.
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard.
He tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred.
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

And dark in the dark old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened. His face was white and peaked.
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s red-lipped daughter.
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say—

“One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I’m after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way.”

He rose upright in the stirrups. He scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair in the casement. His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(O, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the west.


He did not come in the dawning. He did not come at noon;
And out of the tawny sunset, before the rise of the moon,
When the road was a gypsy’s ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching—
King George’s men came marching, up to the old inn-door.

They said no word to the landlord. They drank his ale instead.
But they gagged his daughter, and bound her, to the foot of her narrow bed.
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through her casement, the road that he would ride.

They had tied her up to attention, with many a sniggering jest.
They had bound a musket beside her, with the muzzle beneath her breast!
“Now, keep good watch!” and they kissed her. She heard the doomed man say—
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I’ll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till her fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

The tip of one finger touched it. She strove no more for the rest.
Up, she stood up to attention, with the muzzle beneath her breast.
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins, in the moonlight, throbbed to her love’s refrain.

Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horsehoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding—
The red coats looked to their priming! She stood up, straight and still.

Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer. Her face was like a light.
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him—with her death.

He turned. He spurred to the west; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o’er the musket, drenched with her own blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, and his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
The landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high.
Blood red were his spurs in the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat;
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

. . .

And still of a winter’s night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding—
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard.
He taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred.
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord’s black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord’s daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.
Lisl: My goodness, Ray - this brings back memories. Thank you!
  • Chris
  • England
  • 10 Apr 2017, 07:04
Kneel and deliver!
Lisl: This is at Biddestone - I must knock on the door one day and ask about it
  • Astrid
  • Netherlands
  • 10 Apr 2017, 07:28
WOW, this is a real 'story-teller'... what a find and what a great weather-vane.
Lisl: I wonder why this subject was chosen, Astrid
That's not that rascal Dick Turpin again is it Lisl, he seems to pop up everywhere.
Lisl: It could well be, though I suspect it is some lesser-known West-country highwayman
  • Alan
  • Great Britain (UK)
  • 10 Apr 2017, 07:31
Dick Turpin - "your money or your life"!
Lisl: He must have struck terror everywhere, Alan
Etrange scène pour une girouette ..j'avoue être un peu surprise..
Bonne journée Lisl
Lisl: Bonne journée, Claudine. It was indeed a surprise
  • JMS*
  • Thailande
  • 10 Apr 2017, 08:38
Je ne m'attendais pas à  une telle scène sur une girouette.
L'image ressemble étrangement à  celle d'un théâtre d'ombres chinoises.
Lisl: That is interesting. I have never seen anything like this on a weather-vane before
superbe girouette! amitiés
Lisl: I have started to collect unusual ones
  • Louis
  • South Africa
  • 10 Apr 2017, 10:56
From back in the days when the English tried to be French. One can see the frenchie on horseback coming from the east, putting the pistol to the englishman in the west. Probably after his beautiful wench...
Lisl: A new take on it, Louis!
Begging for mercy.
Lisl: Terrified!
Next time Ginnie is down your way you'll have to take her to this one so she can add it to her collection.
Lisl: I could do that, Brian - it is only 10 minutes up the road
The Highway Rat was a baddie.
The Highway Rat was a beast.
He took what he wanted and ate what he took.
His life was one long feast.
His teeth were sharp and yellow,
his manners were rough and rude,
And the Highway Rat went riding -
Riding - riding -
Riding along the highway
and stealing the travellers' food.

Puts me in mind of one of my favourite Julia Donaldson Axel Scheffler children's dooks
Lisl: Thank you for this, Bill - another take on the picture
Ginnie would be very pleased with this weather vane as am i Lisl... good silhouette....petersmile
Lisl: I am pleased you like it too, Peter
Interesting weather vane - a highwayman I assume?
Lisl: I think it must be, Tom, but one day I will ask the owners
  • CherryPie
  • Great Britain (UK)
  • 11 Apr 2017, 00:41
Wow, what an interesting weather-vane.
Lisl: A one-off, I think, Cherie
  • jpla
  • Anjou
  • 11 Apr 2017, 08:20
Belle trouvaille
Lisl: J'ai été très content de trouver cela
Looks like a scene from Barry
Lisl: Thank you, Larry

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camera COOLPIX P510
exposure mode aperture priority
shutterspeed 1/250s
aperture f/5.4
sensitivity ISO125
focal length 89.1mm
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