Page:Where the Dead Men Lie.djvu/57



The Bree was up; the floods were out Around the hut of Culgo Jim: The hand of God had broke the drought And filled the channels to the brim: The outline of the hut loomed dim Among the shades of murmurous pine, That eve of good Saint Valentine.

He watched, and to his sleepy gaze The dying embers of the fire, Its yellow reds and pearly greys, Made pictures of his younger days. Outside the waters mounted higher Beneath a half-moon's sickly shine, That eve of good Saint Valentine.