SELECTIONS IN ENGLISH POETRY
Twill be Easter-time in the world—ah me!
And I lose my poor soul, Merman! here with thee."
I said, "Go up, dear heart, through the waves; 60
Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves!"
She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay.
Children dear, was it yesterday?
Children dear, were we long alone?
"The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan; 65
Long prayers," I said, "in the world they say;
Come!" I said; and we rose through the surf in the
bay.
We went up the beach, by the sandy down
Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-walled town;
Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still, 7°
To the little grey church on the windy hill.
From the church came a murmur of folk at their
prayers,
But we stood without in the cold blowing airs.
We climbed on the graves, on the stones worn with
rains.
And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded
panes. 75
She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear:
"Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here:
Dear heart," I said, "we are long alone:
The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan."
But, ah! she gave me never a look. So
For her eyes were sealed to the holv book!
Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door.
Come away, children, call no more!
Come awayt come down, call no more!
Down, down, down ! 85
Down to the depths of the sea!