281 Then bankes came downe with ruin and rout, Then beaten foam flew round about, So farre, so fast the eygre drave, Sobbed in the grasses at our feet: The feet had hardly time to flee Before it brake against the knee, And all the world was in the sea. Upon the roofe we sate that night, The noise of bells went sweeping by: I marked the lofty beacon-light Stream from the church-tower, red and high, A lurid mark and dread to see; They rang the sailor-lads to guide From roofe to roofe who fearless rowed, And I-my sonne was at my side, And yet the ruddy beacon glowed: And yet he moaned beneath his breath, "O come in life, or come in death! O lost! my love, Elizabeth." And didst thou visit him no more? Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare; The waters laid thee at his doore, Ere yet the early dawn was clear. The pretty bairns in fast embrace, The lifted sun shone on thy face, Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place. That flow strewed wrecks about the grass, That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea; A fatal ebbe and flow, alas! To manye more than myne and me: But each will mourn his own (she saith). And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth. I shall never hear her more From the meads where melick groweth, HEIGH-HO! daisies and buttercups! Fair yellow daffodils, stately and tall! ! Heigh-ho! daisies and buttercups! Fair yellow daffodils stately and tall! A sunshiny world full of laughter and leisure, And fresh hearts unconscious of sorrow and thrall! Send down on their pleasure smiles passing its measure, God that is over us all! SEVEN TIMES SEVEN. LONGING FOR HOME. A SONG of a boat : There was once a boat on a billow: Lightly she rocked to her port remote, And the foam was white in her wake like snow, And her frail mast bowed when the breeze would blow, And bent like a wand of willow. I shaded mine eyes one day when a boat Went curtsying over the billow, I marked her course till, a dancing mote, She faded out on the moonlit foam, And I stayed behind in the dear-loved home; When the wind wakes how they rock in | And my thoughts all day were about the the grasses, And dance with the cuckoo-buds slender and small! boat, And my dreams upon the pillow. Here's two bonny boys, and here's I pray you hear my song of a boat, mother's own lasses, Eager to gather them all. · For it is but short:- Long I looked out for the lad she bore, For he came not back to me THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH. Shall never light on a prouder sitter, I had a nestful once of my own, They spread out their wings to fly. I pray you, what is the nest to me, And what is the shore where I stood to AFTER THE RAIN. 283 |