36 NATURE IN DOWNLAND 



and sombre simile with which he concludes his poetic 

 drama of The Countess Cathleen : 



Tell them that walk upon the floor of peace 

 That I would die and go to her I love ; 

 The years like great black oxen tread the world, 

 And God the herdsman goads them on behind, 

 And I am broken by their passing feet. 



The black oxen figure nobly, too, in Mrs. Marriott 

 Watson's poem, On the Downs, and these are our 

 familiar Sussex beasts. I will here quote more than 

 the necessary lines; and the reader who knows and 

 loves the district will agree that a more perfect 

 picture of downland in one of its many aspects was 

 never written: 



Broad and bare to the skies, 



The great down country lies, 



Green in the glance of the sun, 



Fresh with the keen, salt air ; 



Screaming the gulls rise from the fresh -turned mould, 



Where the round bosom of the wind-swept wold 



Slopes to the valley fair. 



Where the pale stubble shines with golden gleam, 



The silver plough-share cleaves its hard- won way 



Behind the patient team, 



The slow black oxen toiling through the day ; 



Tireless, impassive still 



From dawning dusk and chill 



To twilight grey. 



Far off, the pearly sheep 



Along the upland steep 



Following the shepherd from the wattled fold, 



With tinkling bell-notes falling sweet and cold 



As a stream's cadence, while a skylark sings 



High in the blue with eager, outstretched wings, 



Till the strong passion of his joy he told, 



