AUSTIN DOBSON

But yet, now living, fain would I That some one then should testify. Saying ' He held his pen in trust To Art, not serving shame or lust.' Will none ? Then let my memory die In after days !

��HENRY CLARENCE KENDALL

827. Mooni

LJE that is by Mooni now

• * Sees the water-sapphires gleaming

Where the River Spirit, dreaming, Sleeps by fall and fountain streaming

Under lute of leaf and bough ! Hears what stamp of Storm with stress is, Psalms from unseen wildernesses Deep amongst far hill-recesses

He that is by Mooni now.

Yea, for him by Mooni's marge Sings the yellow-hair'd September, With the face the gods remember, When the ridge is burnt to ember,

And the dumb sea chains the barge! Where the mount like molten brass is, Down beneath fern- feathered passes Noonday dew in cool green grasses

Gleams on him by Mooni's marge.

�� �