SEA SPRAY &> SMOKE DRIFT 



One was there, leading by nearly a rood, 

 Though we were racing he kept to the 

 fore, 



Still as a rock in his stirrups he stood, 

 High in the sunlight his sabre he bore. 



Suddenly tottering, backwards he crash't. 

 Loudly his helm right in front of us rung ; 



Iron hoofs thunder'd, and naked steel flash't 

 Over him — youngest, where many were 

 young. 



Now we were close to them, every horse 

 striding 

 Madly ; — St Luce pass't with never a 

 groan ; — 

 Sadly my master look't round — he was riding 

 On the boy's right, with a line of his own. 



Thrusting his hand in his breast or breast- 

 pocket. 

 While from his wrist the sword swung by 

 a chain, 



Swiftly he drew out some trinket or locket, 



Kiss't it (I think) and replaced it again. 



152 



