AGNES MARY FRANCES DUCLAUX
Then, when all the feasting's done, She shall draw us round the blaze,
Laugh, and tell us every one Of her far triumphant days
Celia, out of doors a star,
By the hearth a holier Lar!
��JOHN DAVIDSON 868 * Song
\HE boat is chafing at our long delay And we must leave too soon The spicy sea-pinks and the inborne spray, The tawny sands, the moon.
i /
��Keep us, O Thetis, in our western flight'
Watch from thy pearly throne Our vessel, plunging deeper into night
To reach a land unknown.
869 A Runnable Stag
WHEN the pods went pop on the broom, green broom, And apples began to be golden-bkinn'd, We harbour'd a stag in the Priory coomb,
And we feathered his trail up-wmd, up-wind, We feather'd his trail up-wind A stag of warrant, a stag, a stag, A runnable stag, a kingly crop, Brow, bay and tray and three on top, A stag, a runnable stag.
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