Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/1084

 HENRY CHARLES BEECHING

Speed slackens now, I float Awhile in my airy boat; Till, when the wheels scarce crawl, My feet to the treadles fall.

Alas, that the longest hill Must end in a vale; but still, Who climbs with toil, wheresoe'er, Shall find wings waiting there.

��ALFRED EDWARD HOUSMAN
 * 1) 77 E'pita'ph on an Army of Mercenaries

^HESE, in the day when heaven was falling, The hour when earth's foundations fled, Follow'd their mercenary calling And took their wages and are dead.

Their shoulders held the sky suspended;

They stood, and earth's foundations stay; What God abandoned, these defended,

And saved the sum of things for pay.

��878 Wenlock Edge

Wenlock Edge the wood \ in trouble; His forest fleece the Wrekin heaves; The gale, it plies the saplings double,

And thick on Severn snow the leaves.

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