Page:The witch-maid & other verses (1914).djvu/46

 I stand there and watch them, in Culgai too, And they do not heed or fear; There is not one lark in the radiant blue Whose carol I do not hear.

This morning the wind on the grasses brown Blows tingling and sweet and rare; Now though my body must tarry in town Thank God that my soul is there!