’What need have I to long or fear?  Now, friendly, I behold
My faithful seasons robe the year in silver and in gold. 
Now I possess and am possessed of the land where I would be,
And the curve of half Earth’s generous breast shall soothe and ravish me!’

CHAPTER HEADINGS

PLAIN TALES FROM THE HILLS

Look, you have cast out Love!  What Gods are these
You bid me please? 
The Three in One, the One in Three?  Not so! 
To my own Gods I go. 
It may be they shall give me greater ease
Than your cold Christ and tangled Trinities.

    Lispeth.

When the Earth was sick and the Skies were grey,
And the woods were rotted with rain,
The Dead Man rode through the autumn day
To visit his love again.

His love she neither saw nor heard,
So heavy was her shame;
And tho’ the babe within her stirred
She knew not that he came.

    The Other Man.

Cry ‘Murder’ in the market-place, and each
Will turn upon his neighbour anxious eyes
Asking;—­’Art thou the man?’ We hunted Cain
Some centuries ago across the world. 
This bred the fear our own misdeeds maintain
To-day.

    His Wedded Wife.

Go, stalk the red deer o’er the heather,
Ride, follow the fox if you can! 
But, for pleasure and profit together,
Allow me the hunting of Man—­
The chase of the Human, the search for the Soul
To its ruin—­the hunting of Man.

    Pig.

’Stopped in the straight when the race was his own! 
Look at him cutting it—­cur to the bone!’
Ask ere the youngster be rated and chidden
What did he carry and how was he ridden? 
Maybe they used him too much at the start;
Maybe Fate’s weight-cloths are breaking his heart.

    In the Pride of his Youth.

’And some are sulky, while some will plunge.
(So ho!  Steady!  Stand still, you!)
Some you must gentle, and some you must lunge.
(There!  There!  Who wants to kill you?)
Some—­there are losses in every trade—­
Will break their hearts ere bitted and made,
Will fight like fiends as the rope cuts hard,
And die dumb-mad in the breaking-yard.’

    Thrown Away.

The World hath set its heavy yoke
Upon the old white-bearded folk
Who strive to please the King. 
God’s mercy is upon the young,
God’s wisdom in the baby tongue
That fears not anything.

    Tod’s Amendment.

Not though you die to-night, O Sweet, and wail,
A spectre at my door,
Shall mortal Fear make Love immortal fail—­
I shall but love you more,
Who, from Death’s House returning, give me still
One moment’s comfort in my matchless ill.

    By Word of Mouth.

They burnt a corpse upon the sand—­
The light shone out afar;
It guided home the plunging boats
That beat from Zanzibar. 
Spirit of Fire, where’er Thy altars rise,
Thou art the Light of Guidance to our eyes!