Page:The Seven Seas (Kipling, 1896).djvu/122



dwells a wife by the Northern Gate,

And a wealthy wife is she;

She breeds a breed o' rovin' men

And casts them over sea,

And some are drowned in deep water,

And some in sight o' shore,

And word goes back to the weary wife

And ever she sends more.

For since that wife had gate or gear,

Or hearth or garth or bield,

She willed her sons to the white harvest,

And that is a bitter yield.

She wills her sons to the wet ploughing,

To ride the horse of tree,

And syne her sons come back again

Far-spent from out the sea.

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