For the new bride's sake that is given to be

630

A stay to fetter the foot of the sea,

Lest it quite spurn down and trample the town,

Ere the violets be dead that were plucked for its crown,

Or its olive-leaf whiten and wither?

Who shall say of the wind's way

That he journeyed yesterday,

Or the track of the storm that shall sound to-morrow,

If the new be more than the grey-grown sorrow?

[Pg 36]

For the wind of the green first season was keen,

And the blast shall be sharper than blew between

640

That the breath of the sea blows hither.

HERALD OF EUMOLPUS.

Old men, grey borderers on the march of death,

Tongue-fighters, tough of talk and sinewy speech,

Else nerveless, from no crew of such faint folk

Whose tongues are stouter than their hands come I

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