Men say it was a stolen tide;

The Lord that sent it, he knows all; But in mine ears doth still abide

The message that the bells let fall; And there was naught of strange, beside The flights of mews and peewits pied By millions crouched on the old sea wall.

I sat and spun within the door, My thread brake off, I raised mine eyes;

The level sun, like ruddy

My son's fair wife, Eliza-
beth.

"Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling,
Ere the early dews were falling,
Far away I heard her song,
"Cusha! Cusha!" all along,
Where the reedy Lindis floweth,
Floweth, floweth ;

From the meads where melick groweth
Faintly came her milking song,-

"Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling,
"For the dews will soon be falling;
Leave your meadow grasses, mellow,
Mellow, mellow;

Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow;
Come up, Whitefoot, come up, Lightfoot;
Quit the stalks of parsley hollow,

Hollow, hollow;

Come up, Jetty, rise and follow,
From the clovers lift your head;

Come up, Whitefoot, come up, Lightfoot,
Come up, Jetty, rise and follow,
Jetty, to the milking shed."

If it be long, ay, long ago,

When I begin to think how long,
Again I hear the Lindis flow,

Swift as an arrow, sharp and strong;
And all the air, it seemeth me,
Is full of floating bells (saith she),
That ring the tune of Enderby.

All fresh the level pasture lay,

And not a shadow might be seen, Save where full five good miles away The steeple towered from out the green. And lo! the great bell far and wide Was heard in all the country side That Saturday at eventide.

The swanherds where their sedges are
Moved on in sunset's golden breath,
The shepherd lads I heard afar,
And my son's wife, Elizabeth ;
Till, floating o'er the grassy sea,
Came down that kindly message free,
The "Brides of Mavis Enderby."

Then some looked up into the sky,
And all along where Lindis flows
To where the goodly vessels lie,

And where the lordly steeple shows.
They said, "And why should this thing be?
What danger lowers by land or sea?

They ring the tune of Enderby!

"For evil news from Mablethorpe,

Of pirate galleys warping down; For ships ashore beyond the scorpe,

They have not spared to wake the town: But while the west is red to see,

And storms be none, and pirates flee,
Why ring The Brides of Enderby'?"

I looked without, and lo! my son

Came riding down with might and main; He raised a shout as he drew on,

Till all the welkin rang again,

"Elizabeth! Elizabeth!

(A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my son's wife, Elizabeth.)

"The old sea wall," he cried, "is down,
The rising tide comes on apace,
And boats adrift in yonder town

Go sailing up the market-place." He shook as one that looks on death: "God save you, mother!" straight he saith, "Where is my wife, Elizabeth?"

"Good son, where Lindis winds away,

With her two bairns I marked her long; And ere yon bells began to play, Afar I heard her milking song." He looked across the grassy lea, To right, to left, "Ho, Enderby!" They rang "The Brides of Enderby!"

With that he cried and beat his breast
For, lo! along the river's bed
A mighty eygre reared his crest,
And up the Lindis raging sped.
It swept with thunderous noises loud,
Shaped like a curling snow-white cloud,
Or like a demon in a shroud.

And rearing Lindis backward pressed
Shook all her trembling banks amain;
Then madly at the eygre's breast

Flung up her weltering walls again.
Then banks came down with ruin and rout—
Then beaten foam flew round about—
Then all the mighty floods were out.

So far, so fast the eygre drave,
The heart had hardly time to beat
Before a shallow, seething wave

Sobbed in the grasses at our feet;
The feet had hardly time to flee
Before it brake against the knee,
And all the world was in the sea.

Upon the roof we sat that night,

The noise of bells went sweeping by;

I marked the lofty beacon light

Stream from the church tower, red and high

A lurid mark and dread to see;

And awesome bells they were to me,

That in the dark rang "Enderby."

They rang the sailor lads to guide

From roof to roof who fearless rowed;