And Habberton’s daughter links hands with Age.
Dusk and dawn, and new tasks are hers,
And the hot thoughts fade and remembrance blurs,
And her hate is starving and scarcely stirs.
For after the dust of twenty years
Her eyes have begun to remember tears.
The air was heavy with rain and Spring,
Still strong was William Habberton,
The black steeds made the coulters ring,
Plowing beneath a watery sun.