Page:Studies in Song - Swinburne (1880).djvu/178

 Far flickers the flight of the swallows, Far flutters the weft of the grass Spun dense over desolate hollows More pale than the clouds as they pass: Thick woven as the weft of a witch is Round the heart of a thrall that hath sinned, Whose youth and the wrecks of its riches Are waifs on the wind.

The pastures are herdless and sheepless, No pasture or shelter for herds: The wind is relentless and sleepless, And restless and songless the birds;