Fling their wavering lights
On a wider, statelier stream-
May acquire, if not the calm
Of its early mountainous shore,
Yet a solemn peace of its own.

And the width of the waters, the hush
Of the gray expanse where he floats,
Freshening its current and spotted with foam
As it draws to the Ocean, may strike

Peace to the soul of the man on its breast

As the pale waste widens around him,
As the banks fade dimmer away,

As the stars come out, and the night-wind
Brings up the stream

Murmurs and scents of the infinite sea.

LXXIX

M. Arnold

SLEEP AT SEA

Sound the deep waters :

Who shall sound that deep?—

Too short the plummet,

And the watchmen sleep.

Some dream of effort

Up a toilsome steep;

Some dream of pasture grounds

For harmless sheep.

White shapes flit to and fro
From mast to mast;
They feel the distant tempest

That nears them fast:
Great rocks are straight ahead,

Great shoals not past;

They shout to one another
Upon the blast.

Oh, soft the streams drop music
Between the hills,

And musical the birds' nests
Beside those rills;

The nests are types of home
Love-hidden from ills,
The nests are types of spirits
Love-music fills.

So dream the sleepers,
Each man in his place;
The lightning shows the smile
Upon each face:

The ship is driving,—driving,—
It drives apace:

And sleepers smile, and spirits
Bewail their case.

The lightning glares and reddens

Across the skies;

It seems but sunset

To those sleeping eyes. When did the sun go down On such a wise?

From such a sunset

When shall day arise?

'Wake,' call the spirits:
But to heedless ears:
They have forgotten sorrows
And hopes and fears;
They have forgotten perils

And smiles and tears;
Their dream has held them long,
Long years and years.

'Wake,' call the spirits again:

But it would take

A louder summons

To bid them awake. Some dream of pleasure For another's sake; Some dream forgetful Of a lifelong ache.

One by one slowly,

Ah, how sad and slow! Wailing and praying

The spirits rise and go: Clear stainless spirits

White, as white as snow; Pale spirits, wailing

For an overthrow.

One by one flitting,

Like a mournful bird
Whose song is tired at last
For no mate heard.
The loving voice is silent,
The useless word;

One by one flitting

Sick with hope deferr'd.

Driving and driving

The ship drives amain: While swift from mast to mast

Shapes flit again,

Flit silent ac the silence

Where men lie slain ;

Their shadow cast upon the sails Is like a stain.

No voice to call the sleepers,

No hand to raise :

They sleep to death in dreaming

Of length of days. Vanity of vanities,

The Preacher says:

Vanity is the end

Of all their ways.

C. G. Rossetti

LXXX

NORTHERN FARMER

OLD STYLE

Wheer 'asta beän saw long and meä liggin' 'ere aloän?

Noorse? thoort nowt o' a noorse: whoy, Doctor's abeän an' agoän:

Says that I moänt 'a naw moor aäle: but I beänt a

fool:

Git ma my aäle, fur I beänt a-gawin' to break my rule.

Doctors, they knaws nowt, fur a says what's nawways

true :

Naw soort o' koind o' use to saäy the things that a do. I've 'ed my point o' aäle ivry noight sin' I beän 'ere. An' I've 'ed my quart ivry market-noight for foorty

year.

Parson's a beän loikewoise, an' a sittin' 'ere o' my bed. 'The amoighty's a taäkin o' you1 to 'issén, my friend,' a said,

An' a towd ma my sins, an's toithe were due, an' I gied it in hond;

I done moy duty boy 'um, as I 'a done boy the lond.

Larn'd a ma' beä. I reckons I 'annot sa mooch to

larn.

But a cast oop, thot a did, 'bout Bessy Marris's barne. Thaw a knaws I hallus voäted wi' Squoire an' choorch

an' staäte,

An' i' the woost o' toimes I wur niver agin the raäte.

An' I hallus coom'd to 's choorch afoor moy Sally wur

deäd,

An' 'eärd 'um a bummin' awaäy loike a buzzard-clock 2

ower my 'eäd,

1 ou as in hour.

2 Cockchafer. [For fuller glossary, see Notes.]

An' I niver knaw'd whot a meän'd but I thowt a 'ad

summut to saäy,

An' I thowt a said whot a owt to 'a said an' I coom'd

awady.

Bessy Marris's barne! tha knaws she laäid it to

meä.

Mowt a bean, mayhap, for she wur a bad un, sheä. 'Siver, I kep 'um, I kep 'um, my lass, tha mun under

stond;

I done moy duty boy 'um, as I ’a done boy the lond.

But Parson a cooms an' a goäs, an' a says it easy an'

freeä,

'The amoighty's a taäkin o' you to 'issén, my friend,' says 'eä.

I weänt saäy men be loiars, thaw summun said it in

'aäste :

But 'e reads wonn sarmin a weeäk, an' I 'a stubb'd Thurnaby waäste.

D'ya moind the waäste, my

not born then ;

lass? naw, naw, tha was

Theer wur a boggle in it, I often 'eärd 'um mysen ; Moäst loike a butter-bump,1 fur I 'eärd 'um about an'

about,

But I stubb'd 'um oop wi' the lot, an' raäved an' rembled 'um out.

Keäper's it wur; fo' they fun 'um theer a-laäid of 'is

faäce

Down i' the woild 'enemies afoor I coom'd to the plaäce.

Noäks or Thimbleby-toäner3 'ed shot 'um as dead

as a naäil.

Noäks wur 'ang'd for it oop at 'soize-but git ́ma my

aäle.

Dubbut looök at the waäste: theer warn't not feeäd for a cow;

Nowt at all but bracken an' fuzz, an' looök at it now

1 Bittern.

2 Anemones.

3 One or other.