Page:The ascent of man by Blind, Mathilde.djvu/144

132 But through it all the image of a girl
 * With hazel eyes like pebbled waters clear,

And warm brown hair that wantoned into curl,
 * Kept his heart sweet through many a galling year,

Like to a bit of lavender long pressed In some black chest.

At last his time was up, and Sam returned
 * To his dear village with its single street,

Where, in the sooty forge, the fire still burned,
 * As, hammering on the anvil, red with heat,

The smith wrought at a shoe with tongues aglow, Blow upon blow.

There stood the church, with peals for death and birth,
 * Its ancient spire o'ertopping ancient trees,

And there the graves and mounds of unknown earth,
 * Gathered like little children round its knees;