Through age-long silence, in Brittany.
III
The high-flung roofs in lichen decked,
Yellow and green and golden-brown,
With tiny flowers and weeds o'er-flecked,
Shelter the cottages of the town;
While up from the chimneys, silently,
Floats the thin, blue smoke of Brittany.
IV
A gleam of brass through the open door,