20

For men must work, and women must weep,
And the sooner it's over, the sooner to sleep;
And good-bye to the bar and its moaning.

THE SANDS OF DEE

(From Alton Locke, 1849)

"O Mary, go and call the cattle home

And call the cattle home,

And call the cattle home
Across the sands of Dee;"

5 The western wind was wild and dank with foam And all alone went she.

10

15

20

The western tide crept up along the sand,

And o'er and o'er the sand,

And round and round the sand,

As far as eye could see.

The rolling mist came down and hid the land:

And never home came she.

"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair-
A tress of golden hair,

A drowned maiden's hair

Above the nets at sea?

Was never salmon yet that shone so fair

Among the stakes on Dee."

They rowed her in across the rolling foam,

The cruel crawling foam,

The cruel hungry foam,

To her grave beside the sea:

But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle

home

Across the sands of Dee,

CLEAR AND COOL

(Song from The Water Babies, 1863)

Clear and cool, clear and cool,
By laughing shallow, and dreaming pool;
Cool and clear, cool and clear,

By shining shingle, and foaming wear;
5 Under the crag where the ouzel sings,
And the ivied wall where the church-bell rings,
Undefiled, for the undefiled;

Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child.

Dank and foul, dank and foul,

10 By the smoky town in its murky cowl;
Foul and dank, foul and dank,
By wharf and sewer and slimy bank;
Darker and darker the further I go,
Baser and baser the richer I grow;

15

Who dare sport with the sin-defiled?
Shrink from me, turn from me, mother and child.

Strong and free, strong and free;
The floodgates are open, away to the sea.
Free and strong, free and strong,
20 Cleansing my streams as I hurry along
To the golden sands, and the leaping bar,
And the taintless tide that awaits me afar,
As I lose myself in the infinite main,

25

Like a soul that has sinned and is pardoned again.

Undefiled, for the undefiled;

Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child.

Artbur hugb Clough

1819-1861

QUA CURSUM VENTUS

(From Ambarvalia, 1843)

As ships, becalmed at eve, that lay
With canvas drooping, side by side,
Two towers of sail at dawn of day

Are scarce long leagues apart descried;

5 When fell the night, upsprung the breeze,
And all the darkling hours they plied,
Nor dreamt but each the self-same seas
By each was cleaving, side by side:

10

E'en so-but why the tale reveal

Of those, whom year by year unchanged,
Brief absence joined anew to feel,

Astounded, soul from soul estranged?

At dead of night their sails were filled, And onward each rejoicing steered— 15 Ah, neither blame, for neither willed,

20

Or wist, what first with dawn appeared

To veer, how vain! On, onward strain,
Brave barks! In light, in darkness too,
Through winds and tides one compass guides—
To that, and your own selves, be true.

But O blithe breeze! and O great seas,

Though ne'er, that earliest parting past,
On your wide plain they join again,
Together lead them home at last,

25 One port, methought, alike they sought, One purpose hold where'er they fare,— O bounding breeze, O rushing seas!

At last, at last, unite them there.

"WITH WHOM IS NO VARIABLENESS, NEITHER SHADOW OF TURNING "

(From the same)

It fortifies my soul to know
That, though I perish, Truth is so:
That, howsoe'er I stray and range,
Whate'er I do, Thou dost not change.
5 I steadier step when I recall
That, if I slip Thou dost not fall.

SAY NOT, THE STRUGGLE NOUGHT AVAILETH (From the same)

Say not, the struggle nought availeth,
The labour and the wounds are vain,

The enemy faints not, nor faileth,

And as things have been they remain.

5 If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;
It may be, in yon smoke concealed,
Your comrades chase e'en now the fliers,
And, but for you, possess the field.

10

For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,
Seem here no painful inch to gain,
Far back, through creeks and inlets making,
Comes silent, flooding in, the main.

And not by eastern windows only,

Where daylight comes, comes in the light, 15 In front, the sun climbs slow, how slowly, But westward, look, the land is bright.

THE STREAM OF LIFE

(From the same)

O stream descending to the sea,
Thy mossy banks between,
The flow'rets blow, the grasses grow,
The leafy trees are green.

5 In garden plots the children play,
The fields the labourers till,
And houses stand on either hand,
And thou descendest still.

10

O life descending unto death,
Our waking eyes behold,
Parent and friend thy lapse attend,
Companions young and old.

Strong purposes our minds possess,
Our hearts affections fill,

15 We toil and earn, we seek and learn,
And thou descendest still.

20

O end to which our currents tend,
Inevitable sea,

To which we flow, what do we know,
What shall we guess of thee?

A roar we hear upon thy shore,
As we our course fulfil;
Scarce we divine a sun will shine
And be above us still,