Page:Poems Barrett.djvu/222

The abeles moved in the sun, and the river smooth did run,—
            Toll slowly!
And the ancient Rhyme rang strange, with its passion and its change,
    Here, where all done lay undone.

And beneath a willow tree, I a little grave did see,
            Toll slowly!
Where was graved,—"Here undefiled, lieth Maud, a three-year child,
    "Eighteen hundred forty-three."

Then, O Spirits—did I say—ye who rode so fast that day,—
            Toll slowly!
Did star-wheels and angel-wings, with their holy winnowings,
    Keep beside you all the way?

Though in passion ye would dash, with a blind and heavy crash,
            Toll slowly!
Up against the thick-bossed shield of God's judgment in the field,—
    Though your heart and brain were rash,—

Now, your will is all unwilled—now, your pulses are all stilled,-
            Toll slowly!
Now, ye lie as meek and mild (whereso laid) as Maud the child,
    Whose small grave to-day was filled.

Beating heart and burning brow, ye are very patient now,
            Toll slowly!
And the children might be bold to pluck the kingscups from your mould,
    Ere a month had let them grow.