172
FOUR SONGS OF FOUR SEASONS.
Like weeds uplifted,
The tree‑trunks rifted
In spars are drifted,
Like foam or sand,
Past swamp and sallow
And reed‑beds callow,
Through pool and shallow,
To wind and lee,
Till, no more tongue‑tied,
Full flood and young tide
Roar down the rapids and storm the sea.
xii.
On shores invaded,
When shorewards waded
The lords of fight;
When churl and craven
Saw hard on haven
The wide‑winged raven
At mainmast height
