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III.
THOUGHTS.

Darkest clouds drop tender rain,
Every leaf and blade is fain
Its own jewel to obtain
From the casket of its pain.

And the thunder, black as night,
Down descends in orbs of white,
For the sun to fill with light,
Tiny chambers of his might.

Precious beads of hope are pearled
On each sorrow through the world,
Softest dews of peace in showers
Lie beneath the clouded hours.

IV.
THE JOURNEY.

The ice froze cold, as cold as death,
   Yet runs the stream below;
The very spring breathes bitter breath,
   But still the flowerets blow.
Nor shall it perish from the land,
   The living seed they bore,
As forth they fared, that pilgrim band,
   As pilgrims went of yore.

Lead, river, down the mountain glen,
   Glide ’mid the sunny slopes;
Now lose thyself, now come again,
   E’en like a pilgrim’s hopes.
And careless rivulets with their peace
   Smiled on the passers-by,
From many a valley, where the trees
   See but their own dear sky.

So swept they on a great bright plain,
   A charmèd breadth out-laid,
Where mountains rounded to the main
   A charmèd circle made;
And northward couched a huge hill dream,
   Which ofttimes, as it lay.
To heave and pant in sleep did seem,
   Beneath the sultry day.

And leaning up against the hill,
   Whose headland, purple-black,
The southern waters, as they fill,
   Kiss daily, and fall back,
A simple hamlet, nowise planned,
   Puts out a long arm white,
Where level sea and level sand
   Scarce know each other’s right.

The mountains rule the east, but all
   The west, the sea, the sea;
Save when the sun at evenfall
   Disputes her sovereignty.
A kindly people held the land,
   A kindly race and free;
So rest they found, that pilgrim band,
   At Borth beside the sea.

V.
THE SEA.—SAFETY.

Bright sea, in thy waters rolled
Dost eternity enfold,
Endless being, uncontrolled,
Freedom, more than heart can hold,
Every wave a hope divine,
Sun-charms, golden line on line,
Thou great moving mystery-shrine!
Thine the first sounds that the earth
Heard, its cradle-song at birth.
Hidden voices in thy deep
Half untold their secret keep,
As they murmur evermore
Old-world tidings to the shore.
Glorious sea, thy moving light
Spreads round earth a mantle bright,
Wide as range of eye or mind,
Tameless playmate of the wind.
Like a shuttle glancing free
In and out, thy life, O sea,
Whatsoe’er thy mood hath been,
Weaves a web of magic sheen.
Gracious wandering life, the air
Sports around thee for its share;
Winds that move, and winds that rest,
Heaving softly on thy breast,
Like a sea-bird