Part 3 (1/2)
And round that early-laurelled head Will flock to gaze the strengthless dead, And find unwithered on its curls The garland briefer than a girl's.
XX
Oh fair enough are sky and plain, But I know fairer far: Those are as beautiful again That in the water are;
The pools and rivers wash so clean The trees and clouds and air, The like on earth was never seen, And oh that I were there.
These are the thoughts I often think As I stand gazing down In act upon the cressy brink To strip and dive and drown;
But in the golden-sanded brooks And azure meres I spy A silly lad that longs and looks And wishes he were I.
XXI
BREDON HILL (1)
In summertime on Bredon The bells they sound so clear; Round both the s.h.i.+res they ring them In steeples far and near, A happy noise to hear.
Here of a Sunday morning My love and I would lie And see the coloured counties, And hear the larks so high About us in the sky.
The bells would ring to call her In valleys miles away: ”Come all to church, good people; Good people, come and pray.”
But here my love would stay.
And I would turn and answer Among the springing thyme, ”Oh, peal upon our wedding, And we will hear the chime, And come to church in time.”
But when the snows at Christmas On Bredon top were strown, My love rose up so early And stole out unbeknown And went to church alone.
They tolled the one bell only, Groom there was none to see, The mourners followed after, And so to church went she, And would not wait for me.
The bells they sound on Bredon, And still the steeples hum.
”Come all to church, good people,”- Oh, noisy bells, be dumb; I hear you, I will come.
(1) p.r.o.nounced Breedon.
XXII
The street sounds to the soldiers' tread, And out we troop to see: A single redcoat turns his head, He turns and looks at me.
My man, from sky to sky's so far, We never crossed before; Such leagues apart the world's ends are, We're like to meet no more;
What thoughts at heart have you and I We cannot stop to tell; But dead or living, drunk or dry, Soldier, I wish you well.
XXIII