To Castletown in a Stiff-Cart

 

Clip clop, up and down
We jerk and roll to Castletown;
Ruts, mounds, holes and stones
Give a shaking to our bones.

Clip, clop, heaving flanks,
We are bumping on the planks;
Hedges, houses, gates and trees
We crawl past in agonies.

Clip clop, creaking shafts;
Little shelter from the draughts.
Nothing soft on which to sit,
Mouths and eyes are full of grit.

Clip clop, months and years
Seem to pass with all their fears;
Time becomes eternity
Stretching out from tree to tree.

Clip clop, roll and grate,
Progress slow but sure as fate.
Streets and railings, castle, mast –
We have reached the town at last!

July 1924