Viii

And after, when the tide was full, and stilled A little while the seething and the hiss, And every tributary channel filled To the brim with rosy streams that swelled to kiss The grass-roots all a-wash and goose-tongue wild And salt-sap rosemary,--then how well content I was to rest me like a breathless child With play-time rapture spent,-- To lapse and loiter till the change should come And the great floods turn seaward, roaring home.