y page;

O, then I know this world is fast asleep,
Bound in Time's womb, till some far morning break;
And, though light grows upon the dreadful deep,
We are dungeoned in thick night. We are not awake.

The world's unborn, for all our hopes and schemes;
And all its myriads only move in dreams.

II

Read what our wisest chroniclers record:--
A king betrayed both foes and friends to death,
Delivered his own country to the sword,
And lied, and lied, and lied to his last breath.

He died, the martyred anarch of his time.
What balm is this that consecrates his dust?
The self-same history shudders at the "crime"
Which shed a blood so fragrant, so "august."

Yes. Let our sons by thousands, millions, die;
And when the crowned assassin of to-day
Stands in the Judgment Hall of Liberty
What shall your desolate nations rise and say?

Honour the dog. He's vanquished! He's a king!
So--for our dead--he's too "august" a thing.

III

_It was a crimson twilight, under that crab-tree.
Moths beat about me, and bats flew low.
I read, in a history, the record of our world.
If there be light, said the Master,
I am a shadow, and I see none....
I am a shadow, and I see none._

THE WHITE CLIFFS

Woden made the red cliffs, the red walls of England.
Round the South of Devonshire, they burn against the blue.
Green is the water there; and, clear as liquid sunlight,
Blue-green as mackerel, the bays that Raleigh knew.

Thor made the black cliffs, the battlements of England,
Climbing to Tintagel where the white gulls wheel.
Cold are the caverns there, and sullen as a cannon-mouth,
Booming back the grey swell that gleams like steel.

Balder made the white cliffs, the white shield of England
(Crowned with thyme and violet where Sussex wheatears fly),
White as the White Ensign are the bouldered heights of Dover,
Beautiful the scutcheon that they bare against the sky.

_So the world shall sing of them--the white cliffs of England,
White, the glory of her sails, the banner of her pride.
One and all,--their seamen met and broke the dread Armada.
Only white may show the world the shield for which they died._

ON THE SOUTH COAST

Come away into the sun and see
All the heavens that used to be,
Daily, hourly, brought to birth
Out of the deep remembering earth.

_This is