On the eve of the marriage morrow
The bride is unquiet by night;
And the arrows of sunrise pierce her
With indefinite shy delight.

And Age lies sleepless and yearning
For child and mother afar;

But the light that shines on their faces
Is farther than sun or star.

-O broken arc and unmeaning,
Though the fragments are so sweet,
If the curve be not one hereafter,
And the circle of love complete!

TO A CHILD.

IF by any device or knowledge
The rosebud its beauty could know,

It would stay a rosebud for ever,

Nor into its fulness grow.

And if thou could'st know thy own sweetness,

O little one, perfect and sweet!

Thou would'st be child for ever;

Completer whilst incomplete.

JEAN INGELOW.

THE HIGH TIDE ON THE COAST OF LINCOLNSHIRE.

(1571.)

THE old mayor climbed the belfry tower,
The ringers ran by two, by three;
'Pull, if ye never pulled before;

Good ringers, pull your best,' quoth he.
'Play uppe, play uppe, O Boston bells!
Ply all your changes, all your swells,

Play uppe "The Brides of Enderby."
Men say it was a stolen tyde

The Lord that sent it, He knows all;
But in myne ears doth still abide

The message that the bells let fall:
And there was nought of strange, beside
The flights of mews and peewits pied

9

By millions crouched on the old sea wall.

I sat and spun within the doore,

My thread brake off, I raised myne eyes;
The level sun, like ruddy ore,

Lay sinking in the barren skies;
And dark against day's golden death
She moved where Lindis wandereth,
My sonne's faire wife, Elizabeth.

'Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling,
Ere the early dews were falling,
Farre away I heard her song.
'Cusha! Cusha!' all along;
Where the reedy Lindis floweth,

Floweth, floweth,

From the meads where melick groweth
Faintly came her milking-song. -

'Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!' calling,
'For the dews will soone be falling;
Leave your meadow grasses mellow,
Mellow, mellow;

Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow;

Come uppe White foot, come uppe Lightfoot, Quit the stalks of parsley hollow,

Hollow, hollow;

Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow,

From the clovers lift your head;

Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow,

'Jetty, to the milking shed.'

If it be long, aye, long ago,

When I beginne to think howe long,

Againe I hear the Lindis flow,

Swift as an arrowe, sharpe and strong;

And all the aire it seemeth mee

Bin full of floating bells (sayth shee),

That ring the tune of Enderby.

Alle fresh the level pasture lay,

And not a shadowe mote be seene,

Save where full fyve good miles away

The steeple towered from out the greene; And lo! the great bell farre and wide Was heard in all the country side That Saturday at eventide.

The swannerds where their sedges are
Moved on in sunset's golden breath,
The shepherde lads I heard afarre,
And my sonne's wife, Elizabeth;

Till floating o'er the grassy sea

Came downe that kyndly message free,
The Brides of Mavis Enderby.'

6

Then some looked uppe into the sky,

And all along where Lindis flows, To where the goodly vessels lie,

And where the lordly steeple shows.
They sayde, 'And why should this thing be,
What danger lowers by land or sea?
They ring the tune of Enderby!

'For evil news from Mablethorpe,
Of pyrate galleys warping down;
For shippes ashore beyond the scorpe,

They have not spared to wake the towne
But while the west bin red to see,
And storms be none, and pyrates flee,
Why ring "The Brides of Enderby?"

I looked without, and lo! my sonne
Came riding downe with might and main.
He raised a shout as he drew on,

Till all the welkin rang again, 'Elizabeth! Elizabeth!'

(A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath
Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.)

'The olde sea wall (he cried) is downe,
The rising tide comes on apace,
And boats adrift in yonder towne

Go sailing uppe the market-place.'

He shook as one that looks on death' 'God save you, mother!' straight he saith; 'Where is my wife, Elizabeth ?'

'Good sonne, where Lindis winds away With her two bairns I marked her long;

And ere yon bells beganne to play
Afar I heard her milking song.'
He looked across the grassy sea,
To right, to left, Ho Enderby!'
They rang 'The Brides of Enderby!'

With that he cried and beat his breast;
For lo! along the river's bed
A mighty eygre reared his crest,
And uppe the Lindis raging sped.
It swept with thunderous noises loud;
Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud,
Or like a demon in a shroud.

And rearing Lindis backward pressed,
Shook all her trembling bankes amaine;
Then madly at the eygre's breast

Flung uppe her weltering walls again.
Then bankes came downe with ruin and rout
Then beaten foam flew round about
Then all the mighty floods were out.

So farre, so fast the eygre drave,

The heart had hardly time to beat, Before a shallow seething wave

Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet:
The feet had hardly time to flee
Before it brake against the knee,
And all the world was in the sea.

Upon the roofe we sate that night,

The noise of bells went sweeping by:

I marked the lofty beacon light

Stream from the church tower, red and high

A lurid mark and dread to see;

And awsome bells they were to mee,

That in the dark rang‘Enderby.'