Xii

Yonder came smells of the gorse, so nutty, Gold-like and warm: it's the prime of May. Better than mortar, brick and putty, Is God's house on a blowing day. Lean me more up the mound; now I feel it: All the old heath-smells! Ain't it strange? There's the world laughing, as if to conceal it, But He's by us, juggling the change.