The Greeting
What fettle, mate ? to me he said
As he went by
With lifted head
And laughing eye,
Where, black against the dawning red,
The pit-heaps cut the sky —
What fettle, mate?
What fettle, mate? to him I said
As he went by
With shrouded head
And darkened eye,
Borne homeward by his marrows, dead,
Beneath the noonday sky —
What fettle, mate?
As he went by
With lifted head
And laughing eye,
Where, black against the dawning red,
The pit-heaps cut the sky —
What fettle, mate?
What fettle, mate? to him I said
As he went by
With shrouded head
And darkened eye,
Borne homeward by his marrows, dead,
Beneath the noonday sky —
What fettle, mate?
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