A Song of Somerset.

EAST, west, where fortune leads I follow,
And take my chance of dry or wet.
But faithful as the homing swallow
I still come back to Somerset.

Some folks at will their bonds can sever;
But I have loved one home too long;
And in my heart I hear for ever
Yon out o' mind w'old-vashioned song
"I niver, niver can vurget

I vurst dra'ed breath in Zummerset."

There flowers our own sweet apple blossom: There the wide-spreading orchards be, That stretch from Mendip's rocky bosom Down to the golden Severn sea,

A land of many a village, nestling

Each in its little, shady combe,

Where lads are strong for work or wrestling, And maidens like a rose in bloom:

Ah, luckless he who never met

A rose-red maid o' Somerset.

There Bath with guardian hills surrounded
Lies lovely as a sleeping queen ;
Wells by her ring of towers bounded;
And Taunton mid her verdant Dene.

And there, where Saxon monks made merry

And Dunstan twisted Satan's tail,

The ruined walls of Glastonbury
Rise from the fields of Polden vale.
Town after town like jewels set
In the fair crown of Somerset.

Fair winds, free way, for Youth, the rover;
We all must share the curse o' Cain!
But bring me back when youth is over
To the old crooked shire again.
Aye, bring me back in life's declining
To the one home that's home for me;
Where in the west the sunset shining
Goes down into the Severn sea.

And let my dying eyes be set
On the dear hills of Somerset !

The Diver.

SWIFT, arrowy flight through sun-soft air;
Bright kiss of waters crystal cool;
The middle darkness of the pool
Of shadowy monsters half aware:
Till deafened by the eddying swirl
I waver back to life again,

And yon June heaven's turquoise stain
Far-flecked with plumes of flying pearl.

Ah, joy! to feel the silken wave
Slip softly over breast and side!
And send great billows circling wide
To flood the vole's grass-hidden cave:
And stir the water-lily's raft

At anchor in yon little bay,

Where points of glittering sapphire play,
And almost wreck that fairy craft.

O beauty of the day that dies!
O scented air from mead and wood!
O pleasure of the dancing blood!
As from the river I arise,
And by its pure embraces seem
Of passion and of care bereft :
A spirit just set free, that left
The heavy body in the stream.

Lambs.

He sleeps as a lamb sleeps, Beside his mother. Somewhere in yon blue deeps

His tender brother

Sleeps like a lamb and leaps.

He feeds as a lamb might,
Beside his mother.
Somewhere in fields of light

A lamb, his brother,

Feeds, and is clothed in white.

The Gardener.

For the light heart or heavy heart
Medicine. Set thou a time apart,
And to thy garden thee betake
With hoe and spade and pot and rake.

Mark thou thy garden,—and not spare
Thyself as honest labourer.

Break thou the earth and turn withal,
So the live airs thereon shall fall.

Then set thy little seeds in rows,
With the kind earth for swaddling-clothes.
And these shall presently awake,
And into life and praise shall break.

Hoe, thin, and water then, that these
May spread their growing limbs at ease;
And prune the vaulting boughs lest they
Should dwindle for the warmth of day.
Soon shall the sweet Spring trumpets ring,
And all the world sing songs for Spring;
Then from the wormy beds shall rise
Creatures that wear the peacock's eyes.

No man shall childless go who hath
Raised these sweet babies out of death.
O peachy cheeks and goldilocks,
And maids in rose and scarlet frocks!