Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/1052

 Many and many a son of Conn the Hundred-Fighter In the red earth lies at rest; Many a blue eye of Clan Colman the turf covers, Many a swan-white breast.

JOHN DAVIDSON

1857-1909

850. Song

The boat is chafing at our long delay, And we must leave too soon The spicy sea-pinks and the inborne spray, The tawny sands, the moon.

Keep us, O Thetis, in our western flight! Watch from thy pearly throne Our vessel, plunging deeper into night To reach a land unknown.

851. The Last Rose

'O which is the last rose?' A blossom of no name. At midnight the snow came; At daybreak a vast rose, In darkness unfurl'd, O'er-petall'd the world.

Its odourless pallor Blossom'd forlorn, Till radiant valour Established the morn—