A few years ago on RP when Kate was also posting - we had a bit of a Cornish thing going and I could only remember the first four lines of this poem. Three people (not I think RP regulars) emailed me to find out the source - but I had lost the poetry book long since, and forgotten. However I found it again in a second-hand book shop (God bless'em) and thought I'd post in case anyone is still looking.

Has your soul ever been 'stogged 'an heavy like (with) gert black mawky griefs'? Well here's the solution!

Piskies

(Writ in Devon)

ThereÂs piskies up to Dartymoor,

An tidden gude yew zay there bainÂt.

IÂve felt Âem grawpin at my heart,

IÂve heard their voices callin faint,

IÂve knawed a man be cruel down Â

His soul fair stogged an heavy-like-

Climb up to brawken Zaddle Tor

An bare his head vor winds to strike,

An all the gert black mawky griefs,

An all the pain an vog and grime.

Have blawed away and left en clear

Like vuzz-bush vires in swalin time.

An what med do so brave a thing

As thic white spells to tak an weave,

But liÂl piskies vitty hands,

Or God Himself as give Âem leave?

But tidden Him would stop an spy

From Widdicombe to Cranmer Pule,

To maze the scheming liÂl heart

Of every Jacky-Lantern fule!

For mebbe Âtis a lonesome rod

Or heather blooth, or peaty ling,

Or nobbut just a rainy combe-

The spell that meks Âee tek an sing.

An this I knaw, the liÂl tods

Be ever callin silver faint.

ThereÂs piskies up to Dartymoor,

An tidden gude yew zay there bainÂt.

T P Cameron Wilson

Killed in France1918