u Cusha! Cusha! Cusha !” calling, Ere the early dews were falling,

Farre away I heard her song.

“Cusha! Cusha !” all along; Where the reedy Lindis floweth,

Floweth, floweth,
From the meads where melick groweth

Faintly came her milking-song:
“Cusba! Cusha ! Cusha !" calling,
“ For the dews will soone be falling;
Leave your meadow grasses mellow,

Mellow, mellow;
Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow;
Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot,
Quit the stalks of parsley hollow,

Hollow, hollow;
Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow,

From the clovers lift your head ;
Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot,
Come uppe Jetty, rise and follow,

Jetty, to the milking-shed.” If it be long, aye, long ago,

When I beginne to think howe long,
Againe I hear the Lindis flow,

Swift as an arrowe, sharpe and strong;
And all the aire it seemeth mee
Bin full of floating bells (sayth shee),
That ring the tune of “Enderby."
Alle fresh the level pasture lay,

And not a shadowe mote be seene,
Save where full fyve good miles away

The steeple towered from out the greene; And lo! the great bell farre and wide Was heard in all the country-side That Saturday at eventide. The swanherds where their sedges are

Moved on in sunset's golden breath,
The shepherde lads I heard afarre,

And my sonne's wife, Elizabeth;
Till floating o'er the grassy sea
Came downe that kyndly message free,
The “Brides of Mavis Enderby.”

Then some looked uppe into the sky,

And all along where Lindis flows, To where the goodly vessels lie,

And where the lordly steeple shows. They sayde, “And why should this thing be? What danger lowers by land or sea ? They ring the tune of Enderby'! “ For evil news from Mablethorpe

Of pyrate galleys warping down, For shippes ashore beyond the scorpe,

They have not spared to wake the towne; But while the west bin red to see, And storms be none, and pyrates flee, Why ring The Brides of Enderby'?" I looked without, and lo! my sonne

Came riding downe with might and main; He raised a shout as he drew on, Till all the welkin rang again,

« Elizabeth! Elizabeth!” (A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.) “ The olde sea-wall (he cried) is downe,

The rising tide comes on apace, And boats adrift in yonder towne

Go sailing uppe the market-place.” He shook as one that looks on death: “God save you, mother!” straight he saith; “Where is my wife, Elizabeth ?” “Good sonne, where Lindis winds away

With her two bairns I marked her long;
And ere yon bells beganne to play

Afar I heard her milking song."
He looked across the grassy lea,
To right, to left, -"Ho Enderby!"
They rang “The Brides of Enderby"!
With that he cried and beat his breast;

For lo ! along the river's bed
A mighty eygre reared his crest,

And uppe the Lindis raging sped.
It swept with thunderous noises loud;
Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud,
Or like a demon in a shroud.

And rearing Lindis, backward pressed,

Shook all her trembling bankes amaine; Then madly at the eygre's breast

Flung uppe her weltering walls again. Then bankes came downe with ruin and routThen beaten foam flew round about Then all the mighty floods were out. So farre, so fast the eygre drave,

The heart had hardly time to beat,
Before a shallow seething wave

Sobbed in the grasses at oure feet:
The feet had hardly time to flee
Before it brake against the knee,
And all the world was in the sea.
Upon the roofe we sate that night,

The noise of bells went sweeping by;
I marked the lofty beacon light

Stream from the church tower, red and highA lurid mark and dread to see ; And awesome bells they were to mee, That in the dark rang “Enderby." They rang the sailor lads to guide,

From roofe to roofe who fearless rowed ;
And I — my sonne was at my side,

And yet the ruddy beacon glowed :
And yet he moaned beneath his breath,
“O come in life, or come in death!
O lost I my love, Elizabeth."
And didst thou visit him no more ?

Thou didst, thou didst, my daughter deare! The waters laid thee at his doore,

Ere yet the early dawn was clear.
Thy pretty bairns in fast embrace,
The lifted sun shone on thy face,
Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place.
That flow strewed wrecks about the grass,

That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea;
A fatal ebbe and flow, alas !

To manye more than myne and mee: But each will mourn his own (she saith), And sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.

I shall never hear her more
By the reedy Lindis shore,
“Cusha, Cusha, Cusha !" calling,
Ere the early dews be falling;
I shall never hear her song,
“Cusha, Cusha!" all along,
Where the sunny Lindis floweth,

Goeth, floweth;
From the meads where melick groweth,
When the water winding down
Onward floweth to the town.

I shall never see her more,
Where the reeds and rushes quiver,

Shiver, quiver,
Stand beside the sobbing river,
Sobbing, throbbing, in its falling,

To the sandy lonesome shore;
I shall never hear her calling,
“Leave your meadow grasses mellow,

Mellow, mellow;
Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow;
Come uppe Whitefoot, come uppe Lightfoot;
Quit your pipes of parsley hollow,

Hollow, hollow;
Come uppe Lightfoot, rise and folow;

Lightfoot, Whitefoot,
From your clovers lift the head;
Come uppe Jetty, follow, follow,

Jetty, to the milking-shed.”

GIVE US LOVE AND GIVE US PEACE. ONE morning, oh! so early, my beloved, my beloved, All the birds were singing blithely, as if never they would cease; 'Twas a thrush sang in my garden, “ Hear the story, hear the story!

And the lark sang, “ Give us glory!”

And the dove said, “Give us peace !”
Then I listened, oh! so early, my beloved, my beloved,
To that murmur from the woodland of the dove, my dear, the dove;
When the nightingale came after, “Give us fame to sweeten duty !”

When the wren sang, “Give us beauty!"
She made answer, “Give us love !"

Sweet is spring, and sweet the morning, my beloved, my beloved ;
Now for us doth spring, doth morning, wait upon the year's increase,
And my prayer goes up, “Oh, give us, crowned in youth with mar.
riage glory,

Give for all our life's dear story,
Give us love, and give us peace !"

THE SHEPHERD LADY.
(From "Mopsa the Fairy.")

I.
Who pipes upon the long green hill,

Where meadow grass is deep?
The white lamb bleats but followeth on

Follow the clean white sheep.
The dear white lady in yon high tower,

She hearkeneth in her sleep.

All in long grass the piper stands,

Goodly and grave is he;
Outside the tower, at dawn of day,

The notes of his pipe ring free.
A thought from his heart doth reach to here:

“Come down, O lady! to me."
She lifts her head, she dons her gown:

Ah! the lady is fair;
She ties the girdle on her waist,

And binds her flaxen hair,
And down she stealeth, down and down,

Down the turret stair.

Behold him! With the flock he wons

Along yon grassy lea.
“My shepherd lord, my shepherd love,

What wilt thou, then, with me?
My heart is gone out of my breast,

And followeth on to thee."

II.

« The white lambs feed in tender grass ;

With them and thee to bide,
How good it were,” she saith at noon;

“ Albeit the meads are wide.