THE HIGH TIDE ON THE COAST OF LINCOLNSHIRE (1571) 146

A MOTHER SHOWING THE PORTRAIT OF HER CHILD. 248

STRIFE AND PEACE...

..254

POEMS.

DIVIDED.

I.

N empty sky, a world of heather,

Purple of foxglove, yellow of broom; We two among them wading together, Shaking out honey, treading perfume.

Crowds of bees are giddy with clover,
Crowds & grasshoppers skip at our feet,
Crowds of larks at their matins hang over,
Thanking the Lord for a life so sweet.

Flusheth the rise with her purple favor,
Gloweth the d'eft with her golden ring,
"Twixt the two bi own butterflies waver,
Lightly settle, a d sleepily swing.

We two walk till the purple dieth

And short dry gras under foot is brown,

But one little streak a a distance lieth

Green like a ribbon in prank the down.

II.

Over the grass we stepped unto it,

And God He knoweth how blithe we were! Never a voice to bid us eschew it:

Hey the green ribbon that showed so fair!

Hey the green ribbon! we kneeled beside it,
We parted the grasses dewy and sheen;
Drop over drop there filtered and slided,
A tiny bright beck that trickled between.

Tinkle, tinkle, sweetly it sung to us,
Light was our talk as of faëry bells;
Faery wedding-bells faintly rung to us
Down in their fortunate parallels.

Hand in hand, while the sun peered over,

We lapped the grass on that younging spring; Swept back its rushes, smoothed its cover,

And said, "Let us follow it west ring.'

III.

A dappled sky, a world of mes lows,
Circling above us the black rooks fly
Forward, backward; lo thei dark shadows
Flit on the blossoming tapestry.