God! of whom music
And song and blood are pure,
The day is never darkened
That had thee here obscure.
V.
Foot to fire in snowtime we trimmed the slender shaft:
Often down the pit spied the lean wolf’s teeth
Grin against his will, trapped by masterstrokes of craft;
Helpless in his froth-wrath as green logs seethe!
Safe the tender lambs tugged the teats, and winter sped