Page:Where the Dead Men Lie.djvu/162



On Lavender the moon broke bright—the Bay looked sweetly pretty: Across its bosom one might see the bosom of a city That hid its dusty face behind a veil of snowy vapour, Through which, all gilded by the sun, its lofty church- spires taper. It happened once upon a time—this story I am telling— Before that Bay's green slopes were hid by many a crowded dwelling; While yet its waters were as clear as dew-drops in the dawning, And yet the mackerel flashed their rainbow radiance to the morning; While in the Bay's long shallows, where the sweet spring water emptied, Beneath the moon at turn of tide the black bream might be tempted With cunning bait of verdant prawns or pleasant paste of salmon— But now, alas! the wily bream just wink and murmur "Gammon!"