And life is never the same again.
G. MacDonald (Phantastes).
L’ENVOI
There’s a whisper down the field where the year has shot her yield
And the ricks stand grey to the sun,
Singing:—“Over then, come over, for the bee has quit the clover
And your English summer’s done.”
You have heard the beat of the off-shore wind
And the thresh of the deep-sea rain;