Page:The witch-maid & other verses (1914).djvu/65

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BURNING OFF

BURNING OFF

They're burning off at the Rampadells,     The tawny flames uprise With greedy licking around the trees:     The hot breath sears our eyes From cores already grown furnace-hot;     The logs are well alight; We fling more wood where the flameless heart     Is throbbing red and white. The fire bites deep in that beating heart,     The creamy smoke-wreaths ooze From cracks and knot-holes along the trunk     To melt in greys and blues.

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