The Angry Exile: Blogroll adjustments.

The Hangman

Into our town the Hangman came,
Smelling of gold and blood and flame.
And he paced our bricks with a diffident air,
And built his frame in the courthouse square.
The scaffold stood by the courthouse side,
Only as wide as the door was wide;
A frame as tall, or little more,
Than the capping sill of the courthouse door.
And we wondered, whenever we had the time,
Who the criminal, what the crime
That the Hangman judged with the yellow twist
of knotted hemp in his busy fist.
And innocent though we were, with dread,
We passed those eyes of buckshot lead --
Till one cried: "Hangman, who is he
For whom you raised the gallows-tree?"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
And he gave us a riddle instead of reply:
"He who serves me best," said he,
"Shall earn the rope of the gallows-tree."
And he stepped down, and laid his hand
On a man who came from another land.
And we breathed again, for another's grief
At the Hangman's hand was our relief
And the gallows-frame on the courthouse lawn
By tomorrow's sun would be struck and gone.
So we gave him way, and no one spoke,
Out of respect for his Hangman's cloak.
The next day's sun looked mildly down
On roof and street in our quiet town,
And stark and black in the morning air
Was the gallows-tree in the courthouse square.
And the Hangman stood at his usual stand
With the yellow hemp in his busy hand;
With his buckshot eye and his jaw like a pike
And his air so knowing and business-like.
And we cried, "Hangman, have you not done
Yesterday, with the foreign one?"
Then we fell silent, and stood amazed,
"Oh, not for him was the gallows raised."
He laughed a laugh as he looked at us:
"Did you think I'd gone to all this fuss
To hang one man? That's a thing I do
To stretch a rope when the rope is new."
Then one cried "Murder!" and one cried "Shame!"
And into our midst the Hangman came
To that man's place. "Do you hold," said he,
"with him that was meant for the gallows-tree?"
And he laid his hand on that one's arm.
And we shrank back in quick alarm!
And we gave him way, and no one spoke
Out of fear of his Hangman's cloak.
That night we saw with dread surprise
The Hangman's scaffold had grown in size.
Fed by the blood beneath the chute,
The gallows-tree had taken root;
Now as wide, or a little more,
Than the steps that led to the courthouse door,
As tall as the writing, or nearly as tall,
Halfway up on the courthouse wall.
The third he took -- we had all heard tell --
Was a usurer, and an infidel.
"What," said the Hangman "have you to do
With the gallows-bound, and he a Jew?"
And we cried out, "Is this one he
Who has served you well and faithfully?"
The Hangman smiled: "It's a clever scheme
to try the strength of the gallows-beam."
The fourth man's dark, accusing song
Had scratched our comfort hard and long;
"And what concern," he gave us back.
"Have you for the doomed -- the doomed and Black?"
The fifth. The sixth. And we cried again,
"Hangman, Hangman, is this the man?"
"It's a trick," he said. "that we hangmen know
For easing the trap when the trap springs slow."
And so we ceased, and asked no more,
As the Hangman tallied his bloody score.
And sun by sun, and night by night,
The gallows grew to monstrous height.
The wings of the scaffold opened wide
Till they covered the square from side to side;
And the monster cross-beam, looking down,
Cast its shadow across the town.
Then through the town the Hangman came,
Through the empty streets, and called my name --
And I looked at the gallows soaring tall,
And thought, "There is no one left at all
For hanging, and so he calls to me
To help pull down the gallows-tree."
So I went out with right good hope
To the Hangman's tree and the Hangman's rope.
He smiled at me as I came down
To the courthouse square through the silent town.
And supple and stretched in his busy hand
Was the yellow twist of the hempen strand.
And he whistled his tune as he tried the trap,
And it sprang down with a ready snap --
And then with a smile of awful command
He laid his hand upon my hand.
"You tricked me. Hangman!," I shouted then,
"That your scaffold was built for other men...
And I no henchman of yours," I cried,
"You lied to me, Hangman. Foully lied!"
Then a twinkle grew in the buckshot eye,
"Lied to you? Tricked you?" he said. "Not I.
For I answered straight and I told you true --
The scaffold was raised for none but you.
For who has served me more faithfully
Then you with your coward's hope?" said he,
"And where are the others who might have stood
Side by your side in the common good?"
"Dead," I whispered. And amiably
"Murdered," the Hangman corrected me:
"First the foreigner, then the Jew...
I did no more than you let me do."
Beneath the beam that blocked the sky
None had stood so alone as I.
The Hangman noosed me, and no voice there
Cried "Stop!" for me in the empty square.

Maurice Ogden

Tuesday, 8 June 2010

Blogroll adjustments.

The thing I enjoy most about blogging is not the freedom to rant about whatever I've read recently that's wound me up but reading the ranting of others. There are some fantastic reads out there and when I'm away from the keyboard I often feel the need to catch up on the reading before blogging myself. Consequently, what I don't like about not finding the time to blog is that I generally fall behind on reading my favourite blogs too, and then when I get caught up I sometimes find the blogosphere a little roomier than it had been before. A while back it was Shibby, then more recently Polaris, and now Constantly Furious and the Renegade Parent have played the Last Post, at least for the time being. And I was too busy even to notice at the time.

Damn.

Renegade Parent seems to be thinking about writing elsewhere and if/when I'll go and have a read, but Constantly seems to be Furious no longer, or not enough to want to spend every spare moment blogging. I can certainly understand that - there have been days when Mrs Exile wondered if I'll ever stop blogging and go and look at some porn like a normal bloke. Hopefully CF is just Intermittently Furious and will take up keyboard and mouse again. If not, and if either or both CF and RP read this, I may be very late in saying so but I've enjoyed both your blogs and hope that you both carry on, but if not good luck from a Slightly Saddened Exile.

As when this has happened before I'm going to change the blogroll but keep an eye out via RSS to see if I need to change it back or add a new blog. Meantime I'm going back to working my way up the blogroll and keeping my fingers crossed that there aren't more heading for the electronic exits.

2 comments:

Dick Puddlecote said...: "there have been days when Mrs Exile wondered if I'll ever stop blogging and go and look at some porn like a normal bloke"

What? Without porn, I'd be posting double what I do now! ;-); 8 June 2010 at 06:16
Angry Exile said...: Captain Ranty, I've had that with Blogger a few times. Usually I get an error code and a link to go to where the code will be explained, only to find that the code is a complete mystery. "Do no evil" clearly doesn't equate to "don't be a pain in the arse".

DP, now we all know the Cap'n is a cute blonde with nice tits and a big gun we don't need porn :-); 8 June 2010 at 09:51