Page:A channel passage and other poems (IA channelpassageot00swinrich).pdf/211



wind that brings us from the springtide south Strange music as from love's or life's own mouth Blew hither, when the blast of battle ceased That swept back southward Spanish prince and priest, A sound more sweet than April's flower-sweet rain, And bade bright England smile on pardoned Spain. The land that cast out Philip and his God Grew gladly subject where Cervantes trod. Even he whose name above all names on earth Crowns England queen by grace of Shakespeare's birth Might scarce have scorned to smile in God's wise down And gild with praise from heaven an earthlier crown. And he whose hand bade live down lengthening years Quixote, a name lit up with smiles and tears,