54829: The New Year

<p dir="ltr"> He was the one man I met up in the wood<br> That stormy New Year's morning; and at first sight,<br> Fifty yards off, I could not tell how much<br> Of the strange tripod was a man. His body<br> Bowed horizontal, was supported equally<br> By legs at one end, by a rage at the other:<br> Thus he rested, far less like a man than<br> His wheel-barrow in profile was like a pig.<br> But when I saw it was an old man bent,<br> At the same moment came into my mind<br> The games at which boys bend thus, High-cocolorum,<br> Or Fly-the-garter, and leap-frog. At the sound<br> Of footsteps he began to straighten himself;<br> His head rolled under his cape like a tortoise's;<br> He took an unlit pipe out of his mouth<br> Politely ere I wished him 'A Happy New Year',<br> And with his head cast upward sideways muttered---<br> So far as I could hear through the trees' roar---<br> 'Happy New Year, and may it come fastish, too,'<br> While I strode by and he turned to raking leaves.<br></p>