And my prayer goes up, "Oh give us, crowned in youth with marriage glory, Give for all our life's dear story, ABOVE THE CLOUDS. AND can this be my own world? Save where the scarlet waves are hurled Down yon gulf below. 'Tis thy world, 't is my world, City, mead, and shore, For he that hath his own world Hath many worlds more. LIKE A LAVEROCK IN THE LIFT. T'S we two, it's we two, it 's we two for aye, All the world and we two, and Heaven be our stay. Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride! What's the world, my lass, my love! what can it do? I am thine, and thou art mine; life is sweet and new. If the world have missed the mark, let it stand by, For we two have gotten leave, and once more we'll try. BINDING SHEAVES. Like a laverock in the lift, sing, O bonny bride! 65 Take a kiss from me thy man; now the song begins; "All is made afresh for us, and the brave heart wins." When the darker days come, and no sun will shine, Thou shalt dry my tears, lass, and I 'll dry thine. It's we two, it's we two, while the world's away, Sitting by the golden sheaves on our wedding-day. SWEET is childhood - childhood 's over, Kiss and part. Sweet is youth; but youth's a rover· So 's my heart. Sweet is rest; but by all showing We must go. Alas! the going. BINDING SHEAVES. HARK! a lover binding sheaves To his maiden sings, Flutter, flutter go the leaves, Larks drop their wings. Little brooks for all their mirth Are not blythe as he "Give me what the love is worth That I give thee. "Speech that cannot be forborne I sowed my love in with the corn, Count the world full wide of girth, But count the love of more worth "Money's worth is house and land, Work's worth is bread in hand, Ay, and sweet rest. Wilt thou learn what love is worth? Ah! she sits above, Sighing, 'Weigh me not with earth, IN his young heart She reigned, with all the beauties that she had, For granted: there he set her with her crown, COLD AND QUIET. 67 COLD AND QUIET. COLD, my dear, cold and quiet. In their cups on yonder lea, Cowslips fold the brown bee's diet; So the moss enfoldeth thee. “Plant me, plant me, O love, a lily flower – Plant at my head, I pray you, a green tree; And when our children sleep," she sighed, "at the dusk hour, And when the lily blossoms, O come out to me!" Lost, my dear? Lost! nay, deepest Near thee, near thee, my wife that aye liveth, Rest, my dear, rest. Fair showeth That which was, and not in vain Love's last words atween us twain. "Hold by our past, my only love, my lover; Ан, well! I would not overstate that woe, For I have had some blessings, little care; But since the falling of that heavy blow, God's earth has never seemed to me so fair. THE HIGH TIDE ON THE COAST OF LINCOLNSHIRE. 1571. `HE old mayor climbed the belfry tower, THE The ringers ran by two, by three; "Pull, if ye never pulled before; Good ringers, pull your best,” quoth he. Men say it was a stolen tyde – The Lord that sent it, He knows all; But in myne ears doth still abide The message that the bells let fall: And there was nought of strange, beside The flight of mews and peewits pied By millions crouched on the old sea wall. I sat and spun within the doore, My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes; The level sun, like ruddy ore, Lay sinking in the barren skies; |