ii

As I stood at my open door I caught a flying word: Two strangers past, “Then that means war ——” That was what I heard.

‘ Twas ten o'clock, a summer's day, My love on the hill. “Then that means war,” I heard them say, And my heart stood still.

Life had been fair as I stood there, Eight weeks a bride; All of me laid warm and bare To my true love's side!

Oh, who should dream of dark to-morrows And lonely weeping Whose steadfast joys and passing sorrows Lay in such a keeping?

There blew a chill wind from the hill Like a sea-breath; I shiver'd and a taint of ill Brought news of death.

I blinkt my eyes as who should try To see what is to fear; The sun still shone high in the sky, But no warmth there.

Then far away I saw the sea A rippling golden sheet, And courage flowed again in me — What foe could break thro’ it?

And all about the fields and hedges, There when I was born, The river slipping through the sedges, And the growing corn —

A land of quiet tilth and cote, Of little woods and streams, Of gentle skies and clouds afloat, And swift sun-gleams!

A land where knee-deep cattle keep, Chewing as they stand; Of hillsides murmurous with sheep — That is my native land!

They say you never love so dear As when you are to part; I know, to see my land so clear Cut me to the heart.

What vain regrets to have lov'd so ill What was our all! What idle vows to love her still Though she should fall!

At stroke of noon my love came in Sharpset for his food; To see him was right sense to win, And feel safe and good.

I was asham'd my fears to tell Lest he should think, “I thought I knew this woman well — But what makes her shrink?”