O, stop your ringing and let me be-
Let be, O Brookland bells!

You'll ring Old Goodman1 out of the sea,
Before I wed one else!

Old Goodman's Farm is rank sea-sand,
And was this thousand year;

But it shall turn to rich plough-land
Before I change my dear.

O, Fairfield Church is water-bound
From autumn to the spring;
But it shall turn to high hill-ground
Before my bells do ring.

O, leave me walk on Brookland Road,
In the thunder and warm rain-
O, leave me look where my love goed,
And p'raps I'll see her again!

Low down-low down!

Where the liddle green lanterns shine-
O maids, I've done with 'ee all but one,
And she can never be mine!

THE SACK OF THE GODS

STRANGERS drawn from the ends of the earth, jewelled and plumed were we;

I was Lord of the Inca race, and she was Queen of the Sea. Under the stars beyond our stars where the new-forged mete

ors glow,

Hotly we stormed Valhalla, a million years ago!

Earl Godwin of the Goodwin Sands?

Ever 'neath high Valhalla Hall the well-tuned horns begin, When the swords are out in the underworld, and the weary Gods

come in.

Ever through high Valhalla Gate the Patient Angel goes

He opens the eyes that are blind with hate he joins the hands of foes.

Dust of the stars was under our feet, glitter of stars aboveWrecks of our wrath dropped reeling down as we fought and we spurned and we strove.

Worlds upon worlds we tossed aside, and scattered them to and fro,

The night that we stormed Valhalla, a million years ago!

They are forgiven as they forgive all those dark wounds and deep, Their beds are made on the Lap of Time and they lie down and

sleep.

They are forgiven as they forgive all those old wounds that bleed. They shut their eyes from their worshippers; they sleep till the world has need.

She with the star I had marked for my own-I with

desire

my set

Lost in the loom of the Night of Nights-lighted by worlds

afire

Met in a war against the Gods where the headlong meteors glow,

Hewing our way to Valhalla, a million years ago!

They will come back—come back again, as long as the red Earth rolls.

He never wasted a leaf or a tree. Do you think He would squan

der souls?

THE KINGDOM

NOW we are come to our Kingdom,
And the State is thus and thus;
Our legions wait at the Palace gate—
Little it profits us.

Now we are come to our Kingdom !

Now we are come to our Kingdom,

And the Crown is ours to take—

With a naked sword at the Council board, And under the throne the snake.

Now we are come to our Kingdom !

Now we are come to our Kingdom,

And the Realm is ours by right,

With shame and fear for our daily cheer,

And heaviness at night.

Now we are come to our Kingdom!

Now we are come to our Kingdom,

But my love's eyelids fall.

All that I wrought for, all that I fought for,

Delight her nothing at all.

My crown is of withered leaves,

For she sits in the dust and grieves.

Now we are come to our Kingdom!

TARRANT MOSS

I CLOSED and drew for my love's sake
That now is false to me,

And I slew the Reiver of Tarrant Moss
And set Dumeny free.

They have gone down, they have gone down, They are standing all arow

Twenty knights in the peat-water,

That never struck a blow!

Their armour shall not dull nor rust,

Their flesh shall not decay,

For Tarrant Moss holds them in trust,

Until the Judgment Day.

Their soul went from them in their youth,
Ah God, that mine had gone,

Whenas I leaned on my love's truth

And not on my sword alone!

Whenas I leaned on lad's belief

And not on my naked blade

And I slew a thief, and an honest thief,
For the sake of a worthless maid.

They have laid the Reiver low in his place,
They have set me up on high,

But the twenty knights in the peat-water
Are luckier than I!

And ever they give me gold and praise

And ever I mourn my loss

For I struck the blow for my false love's sake

And not for the Men of the Moss!

SIR RICHARD'S SONG

(A. D. 1066)

[FOLLOWED my Duke ere I was a lover, To take from England fief and fee;

But now this game is the other way overBut now England hath taken me!

I had my horse, my shield and banner,
And a boy's heart, so whole and free;
But now I sing in another manner—
But now England hath taken me!

As for my Father in his tower,
Asking news of my ship at sea,
He will remember his own hour-
Tell him England hath taken me!

As for my Mother in her bower,
That rules my Father so cunningly,
She will remember a maiden's power-
Tell her England hath taken me!

As for my Brother in Rouen City,
A nimble and naughty page is he,
But he will come to suffer and pity—
Tell him England hath taken me!

As for my little Sister waiting

In the pleasant orchards of Normandie, Tell her youth is the time for mating— Tell her England hath taken me!