Page:Poems and ballads (IA poemsballads00swinrich).pdf/261

 Did ear take note of me, nor eye at all Track my feet going in the ways of them. Like a great fire on some strait slip of land Between two washing inlets of wet sea That burns the grass up to each lip of beach And strengthens, waxing in the growth of wind, So burnt my soul in me at heaven and earth, Each way a ruin and a hungry plague, Visible evil; nor could any night Put cool between mine eyelids, nor the sun With competence of gold fill out my want. Yea so my flame burnt up the grass and stones, Shone to the salt-white edges of thin sea, Distempered all the gracious work, and made Sick change, unseasonable increase of days And scant avail of seasons; for by this The fair gods faint in hollow heaven: there comes No taste of burnings of the twofold fat To leave their palates smooth, nor in their lips Soft rings of smoke and weak scent wandering; All cattle waste and rot, and their ill smell Grows alway from the lank unsavoury flesh That no man slays for offering; the sea And waters moved between the heath and corn Preserve the people of fin-twinkling fish, And river-flies feed thick upon the smooth; But all earth over is no man or bird (Except the sweet race of the kingfisher)