Heard a carol, mournful, holy, Turned to towered Camelot ; Under tower and balcony, By garden wall and gallery, Out upon the wharfs they came, And round the prow they read her name, Who is this? and what is here, And in the lighted palace near Died the sound of royal cheer; But Lancelot mused a little space; ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. Romance The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire and Reality The old mayor climbed the belfry tower, Good ringers, pull your best," quoth he. Men say it was a stolen tyde The Lord that sent it, He knows all; The message that the bells let fall: By millions crouched on the old sea wall. I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; Lay sinking in the barren skies; "Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling, Ere the early dews were falling, Where the reedy Lindis floweth, Floweth, floweth, From the meads where melick groweth "Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling, Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow; Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow, From the clovers lift your head; Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, If it be long, aye, long ago, When I beginne to think howe long, Againe I hear the Lindis flow, Swift as an arrowe, sharpe and strong; And all the aire it seemeth mee Bin full of floating bells (sayth shee), Alle fresh the level pasture lay, And not a shadowe mote be seene, Save where full fyve good miles away Romance and Reality Romance and Reality The steeple towered from out the greene; The swannerds where their sedges are Then some looked uppe into the sky, And where the lordly steeple shows. They sayde, "And why should this thing be, They ring the tune of Enderby! "For evil news from Mablethorpe, Of pyrate galleys warping down; They have not spared to wake the towne: I looked without, and lo! my sonne Came riding downe with might and main: He raised a shout as he drew on, Till all the welkin rang again, "Elizabeth! Elizabeth!" (A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.) "The olde sea wall (he cried) is downe, The rising tide comes on apace, And boats adrift in yonder towne Go sailing uppe the market-place." He shook as one that looks on death: "Good sonne, where Lindis winds away And ere yon bells beganne to play With that he cried and beat his breast; A mighty eygre reared his crest, And uppe the Lindis raging sped. Romance and Reality |