Page:Poems and ballads, third series (IA poemsballadsthir00swin).pdf/33

 Thy quickening woods rejoice and ring Till earth seems glorious as the sea: With yearning love too glad for glee The world's heart quivers toward the spring As all our hearts toward thee.

Thee, mother, thee, our queen, who givest Assurance to the heavens most high And earth whereon her bondsmen sigh That by the sea's grace while thou livest Hope shall not wholly die.

That while thy free folk hold the van Of all men, and the sea-spray shed As dew more heavenly on thy head Keeps bright thy face in sight of man, Man's pride shall drop not dead.