― 39 ―


PIXIES in the ferny hollow,
Brownies on the hill;
Every track we used to follow
Keeps its fairies still.

Only we have left our places
Desolate and cold,
Only we have turned our faces
From the glades of gold;

Seeking for the things that perished,
Lights that failed afar;
Losing those clear eyes that cherished.
God in stone and star;

Seeking still in man's endeavour
And Divine decree
For the gracious “light that never
Was on land or sea”;

Waiting some supreme to-morrow,
Where the dream-flowers wake;
Singing songs to some far sorrow
Lest our own hearts break.

So we journey, half forgetting
There are fairies still,
Where the little winds are fretting
Round the hollow hill.