SABRINA FAIR. 



1 Sabrina fair, 



Listen where thou art sitting 

 Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave ; 



In twisted braids of lilies knitting 

 The loose train of thy amber-dropping hair ; 

 Listen for dear honour's sake, 

 Goddess of the silver lake, 

 Listen and save." 



/~\N the upper reaches of the Severn the angler has 

 had but a sorry time of it in these unquiet days. 



He looks sadly down upon a fluctuating river, whose 

 brown waters rise and fall with each change in the un- 

 certain weather. 



It is the story of the season. In the drought early 

 in the year the stream fell far below its customary 

 level. Week after week it shrank still farther away 

 from its parched and crumbling shores. The narrow 

 islands were bordered with a fringe of sand. Stumps 

 of ancient trees, long submerged and black as ebony, 

 raised their dark heads above the surface. Patches of 



