359

YOUNG AND OLD

When all the world is young, lad,
And all the trees are green;
And every goose a swan, lad,

And every lass a queen;

Then hey for boot and horse, lad,

And round the world away;

Young blood must have its course, lad,
And every dog his day.

When all the world is old, lad,

And all the trees are brown;

And all the sport is stale, lad,
And all the wheels run down ;

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10

Creep home, and take your place there,
The spent and maimed among :

God grant you find one face there,
You loved when all was young.

15

C. KINGSLEY.

360

O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN !

O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, The ship has weather'd every rack, the prize we sought is won,

The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,

While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring,

But O heart! heart! heart!

O the bleeding drops of red!

Where on the deck my Captain lies,
Fallen cold and dead.

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O Captain! my Captain ! rise up and hear the bells; Rise up for you the flag is flung-for you the bugle trills,

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For you bouquets and ribbon'd wreaths-for you the shores a-crowding,

For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;

Here Captain! dear father!

This arm beneath your head!

It is some dream that on the deck 15
You've fallen cold and dead.

My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,

My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will ;

The ship is anchor'd safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,

From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;

Exult, O shores, and ring, O bells!

But I, with mournful tread,

Walk the deck my Captain lies,

Fallen cold and dead.

WALT WHITMAN.

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361

Playing on the virginals,

Who but I! Sae glad, sae free,

Smelling for all cordials,

The green mint and marjorie;
Set among the budding broom,
Kingcup and daffodilly,

By my side I made him room :
O love my Willie !

'Like me, love me, girl o' gowd,'
Sang he to my nimble strain;
Sweet his ruddy lips o'erflowed

Till my heartstrings rang again;
By the broom, the bonny broom,
Kingcup and daffodilly,

In my heart I made him room :
O love my Willie !

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10

15

Pipe and play, dear heart,' sang he,

6

I must go, yet pipe and play;
Soon I'll come and ask of thee

For an answer yea or nay;'
And I waited till the flocks

20

Panted in yon waters stilly,
And the corn stood in the shocks :
O love my Willie !

I thought first when thou didst come
I would wear the ring for thee,

But the year told out its sum

Ere again thou sat'st by me;

Thou hadst naught to ask that day
By kingcup and daffodilly;

I said neither yea nor nay:

O love my Willie !

JEAN INGELOW.

362

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;

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But in myne ears doth still abide

10

The message that the bells let fall:

And there was naught of strange, beside

The flight of mews and peewits pied

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! Čusha !' 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;

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Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot, Quit the stalks of parsley hollow,

Hollow, hollow;

Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow,

From the clovers lift your head;

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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,

50

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 swanherds 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,

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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 "?'

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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.)

6

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.'

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