THE PADDOCK
Swimming, I spread my fingers out;—
Sweets to snatch, Cool to catch....
Slow....Slow!
Grass of the Paddock!
Far away,
Once, as I dance with you to-day,
Over a paddock of wither’d wheat
I danced, with the snow and sleet.
Under the wasted harvest-yield,
The soil lay sodden and red,
And the floor we beat with our frolicking feet
Was, the batter’d face of the Dead.
(Sow, reap!
Slaughter, and sleep!)
I danced, and away I fled.
Leaves of the Paddock!
Far away,
Blithely, as hither I hurry to play,
Over the shimmering hyacinth-field,
Over the Sea, I sped.
A whisper spoke, and a laughter woke
And the bloomy sheen was bubbled and broke
With many a glittering head!
Glad of my lips were the gallant ships,
Speeding buoyant and bold;
The birds flew white, and the clouds blew bright,
The foam sprang into a rainbow flight,
And the jolly porpoises roll’d;
The sunbeams sparkled, the billows curl’d
—Nothing was gladder in all the world!
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