THE INCOMING OF SUMMER 21 

 wavy flight to another boulder. He follows, 

 but she is restless. Downstream they pass, 

 stopping for a moment on a jutting fragment 

 of rock in the stone hedge, peering into a 

 cavity. Throughout the summer the gray 

 wagtails will haunt the brook, for within 

 the cave foundations of their nest are already 

 laid, fibres sought inside the pollard willows. 



Those galleons the clouds have sailed 

 into the north-eastern main, and no canvas 

 or furled rigging are visible. For weeks 

 no treasure of rain has been brought for 

 the earth to spend with lavish abandon on 

 verdant raiment, no largesse of shower has 

 been thrown to the humble chickweed or 

 vagrant sorrel. But on the surface of the 

 land green things are stained with sap and 

 charged with alchemising sunbeams. The 

 secret of the philosop! er's stone, anciently 

 sought to change baser metals to gold, 

 has remained undiscovered through the ages, 

 nor has the countryman ever found the 

 crock of spade guineas at the rainbow's end. 



