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This was where a withered moan is； and the gleam of weak； wan star；
And a thunder full of menace sends its mighty voices far！
This was where black execrations； from some dark tribunal hurled；
Page： 148
Set the brand of curse on all things in the morning of the world！
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One man yielded … then another … then a lad of nineteen years
Reeled and fell； with English rivers singing softly in his ears；
English grasses started round him … then the grace of Sussex lea
Came and touched him with the beauty of a green land by the sea！
Old…world faces thronged about him … old…world voices spoke to him；
Page： 149
But his speech was like a whisper； and his eyes were very dim。
In a dream of golden evening； beaming on a quiet strand；
Lay the stranger till a bright One came and took him by the hand。
England vanished； died the voices； but he heard a holier tone；
And an angel that we know not led him to the lands unknown！
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Six there were； but three were taken！ Three were left to struggle still；
But against the red horizon flamed a horn of brindled hill！
Page： 150
But beyond the northern skyline； past a wall of steep austere；
Lay the land of light and coolness in an April…coloured year！
‘‘Courage； brothers！'' cried the leader。 ‘‘On the slope of yonder peak
There are tracts of herb and shadow； and the channels of the creek！''
So they made one last great effort …
haled their beasts through brake and briar；
Set their feet on spurs of furnace； grappled spikes and crags of fire；
Fought the stubborn mountain forces； smote down naked； natural powers；
Till they gazed from thrones of Morning on a sphere of streams and flowers。
Page： 151
Out behind them was the desert； glaring like a sea of brass！
Here before them were the valleys； fair with moonlight…coloured grass！
At their backs were haggard waste…lands； bickering in a wicked blaze！
In their faces beamed the waters； marching down melodious ways！
Touching was the cool； soft lustre over laps of lawn and lea；
And majestic was the great road Morning made across the sea。
On the sacred day of Christmas； after seven months of grief；
Rested three of six who started； on a bank of moss and leaf …
Page： 152
Rested by a running river； in a hushed； a holy week；
And they named the stream that saved them … named it fitly … ‘‘Christmas Creek''。
Page： 153
ORARA
THE strong sob of the chafing stream
That seaward fights its way
Down crags of glitter； dells of gleam；
Is in the hills to…day。
But far and faint； a grey…winged form
Hangs where the wild lights wane …
The phantom of a bygone storm；
A ghost of wind and rain。
The soft white feet of afternoon
Are on the shining meads；
The breeze is as a pleasant tune
Amongst the happy reeds。
Page： 154
The fierce； disastrous； flying fire；
That made the great caves ring；
And scarred the slope； and broke the spire；
Is a forgotten thing。
The air is full of mellow sounds；
The wet hill…heads are bright；
And down the fall of fragrant grounds；
The deep ways flame with light。
A rose…red space of stream I see；
Past banks of tender fern；
A radiant brook； unknown to me
Beyond its upper turn。
The singing； silver life I hear；
Whose home is in the green；
Far…folded woods of fountains clear；
Where I have never been。
Page： 155
Ah； brook above the upper bend；
I often long to stand
Where you in soft； cool shades descend
From the untrodden land！
Ah； folded woods； that hide the grace
Of moss and torrents strong；
I often wish to know the face
Of that which sings your song！
But I may linger； long； and look
Till night is over all：
My eyes will never see the brook；
Or sweet； strange waterfall。
The world is round me with its heat；
And toil； and cares that tire；
I cannot with my feeble feet
Climb after my desire。
Page： 156
But； on the lap of lands unseen；
Within a secret zone；
There shine diviner gold and green
Than man has ever known。
And where the silver waters sing
Down hushed and holy dells；
The flower of a celestial Spring …
A tenfold splendour； dwells。
Yea； in my dream of fall and brook
By far sweet forests furled；
I see that light for which I look
In vain through all the world …
The glory of a larger sky
On slopes of hills sublime；
That speak with God and morning； high
Above the ways of Time！
Page： 157
Ah！ haply in this sphere of change
Where shadows spoil the beam；
It would not do to climb that range
And test my radiant Dream。
The slightest glimpse of yonder place；
Untrodden and alone；
Might wholly kill that nameless grace；
The charm of the unknown。
And therefore； though I look and long；
Perhaps the lot is bright
Which keeps the river of the song
A beauty out of sight。
Page： 158
THE CURSE OF MOTHER FLOOD
Wizened the wood is； and wan is the way through it；
White as a corpse is the face of the fen；
Only blue adders abide in and stray through it …
Adders and venom and horrors to men。
Here is the ‘‘ghost of a garden'' whose minister
Fosters strange blossoms that startle and scare。
Red as man's blood is the sun that； with sinister
Flame； is a menace of hell in the air。
Wrinkled and haggard the hills are … the jags of them
Gape like to living and ominous things：
Storm and dry thunder cry out in the crags of them …
Fire； and the wind with a woe in its wings。
Page： 159
Never a moon without clammy…cold shroud on it
Hitherward comes； or a flower…like star！
Only the hiss of the tempest is loud on it …
Hiss； and the moan of a bitter sea bar。
Here on this waste； and to left and to right of it；
Never is lisp or the ripple of rain：
Fierce is the daytime and wild is the night of it；
Flame without limit and frost without wane！
Trees half alive； with the sense of a curse on them；
Shudder and shrink from the black heavy gal