POETRY.
LAND-HORSES AND SEA-HORSES. THE patient horses of the plough, Dark-coloured like the new-turned soil, Their meek, strong necks submissive bow From dawn till dusk, at irksome toil, Not heeding, though below they bear How the sea-horses plunge and rear.
The magic horses of the sea No voice of any master mind, But fare all day untrammelled, free, And none calls to them from behind ; Nor mark they moving on the cliff The land-horses at labour stiff.
The sods of earth in silence yield As the sharp-bladed ploughshare graves Long furrows in the fallow field, But the sea's still-resentful waves —When the sea-horses through them pass— Sunder with sound of shivered glass !
The soil's dim bloom is flecked with black By ebon hordes of rooks and choughs That follow in the ploughshare's track ; But from the sea's far-foaming troughs, Whiter than flakes of milky curds, Flash the sea-horses' sacred birds.
The plough-horses with smoking sides Turn home at twilight to their stall ; The tameless horses of the tides Know not of shelter at nightfall, For, never wearied, never sleep The deathless horses of the deep.
Lucims.
Previous page
