(December 1881)

Waytinge! wearilie waytinge,
  Here by the Fives Court wall,
When the miste comes over the Burrowes,
  And the Daye is beginning to fall,
And the Sea and the Sandes and the Shingles
  Are hid in a shudderinge Pall.

Waytinge! wearilie waytinge,
  While the dead Leaves flutter and flee,
While the Locke-uppe Bell is ringinge,
  And drearilie moanes the Sea.
Has hee eaten the Buns and the Biscuits 
  I told him to get for my Tea?

Waitinge! wearilie waytinge!
  Torn of an inward  Paine!
While Nighte comes o'er the Hillside
  Borne in a Guste of Raine.
I am wearie at Heart of Waytinge:—
  Robinson, bringe me a Caine.

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