The bell for tea rang faintly across the meadows. Dan lay in the bows of the Golden Hind; Una in the stern, the book of verses open in her lap, was reading from 'The Slave's Dream':
'Again, in the mist and shadow of sleep, He saw his native land.'
'I don't know when you began that,' said Dan, sleepily.
On the middle thwart of the boat, beside Una's sun-bonnet, lay an Oak leaf, an Ash leaf, and a Thorn leaf, that must have dropped down from the trees above; and the brook giggled as though it had just seen some joke.
THE RUNES ON WELAND'S SWORD
A Smith makes me To betray my Man In my first fight.
To gather Gold At the world's end I am sent.
The Gold I gather Comes into England Out of deep Water.