Page:Poems and ballads, third series (IA poemsballadsthir00swin).pdf/33

xxxvi.

Thy quickening woods rejoice and ring

Till earth seems glorious as the sea:
With yearning love too glad for glee
The world's heart quivers toward the spring
As all our hearts toward thee.

xxxvii.

Thee, mother, thee, our queen, who givest

Assurance to the heavens most high
And earth whereon her bondsmen sigh
That by the sea's grace while thou livest
Hope shall not wholly die.

xxxviii.

That while thy free folk hold the van

Of all men, and the sea-spray shed
As dew more heavenly on thy head
Keeps bright thy face in sight of man,
Man's pride shall drop not dead.