BELLWORT. 63 



There was a ditch — 'twas dark and broad- 

 With black and sluggish tide. 



" It seems but yesterday that I 



Was hunting bird's eggs there — 

 To-day it chanced to meet mine eye 



A dusty thoroughfare." 

 Breathed freely once again the child — 



" That road was alway so — 

 With wains of hay and wagons piled 



Thus passing to and fro." 



" Nay, once a goodly wood was there 



With blossoms in the spring — 

 Where darted out the crouching hare 



And bird upon the wing, — 

 But now a lengthened dusty way — 



A cross-road — mile-stone too — 

 Things that to you have been alway, 

 To me are strange and new. 



" I have not slept these long blank years 



For store of gold is here — 

 Apart from joy — apart from tears 



With neither grief nor cheer, 

 And never on my conscience left 



The stain of any wrong — 

 Why should I feel as one bereft, 



With yearnings new and strong ? 



■' Why hear a voice forever cry, — 

 ' Unfaithful steward thou V 



