Page:Songs of the Springtides - Swinburne (1880).pdf/53

 Wan wild sparse flowers of windy and wintry spring Between the tortive serpent-shapen roots Wherethrough their dim growth hardly strikes and shoots And shews one gracious thing Hardly, to speak for summer one sweet word Of summer's self scarce heard. But higher the steep green sterile fields, thick-set With flowerless hawthorn even to the upward verge Whence the woods gathering watch new cliffs emerge Higher than their highest of crowns that sea-winds fret, Hold fast, for all that night or wind can say, Some pale pure colour yet, Too dim for green and luminous for grey. Between the climbing inland cliffs above And these beneath that breast and break the bay, A barren peace too soft for hate or love Broods on an hour too dim for night or day.