.Al 
 
/^^^^^ 
 
• A SOUVENIR 
 
 /OF 
 
 JEAN INGELOW 
 
 WILLIAM GOODRICH BEAL 
 
 ILLUSTRATED WITH EIGHT ETCHINGS 
 ON INDIA PAPER BY 
 
 ^ ^ 
 
 BOSTON 
 SAMUEL E. CASSINO 
 
2- 
 
 Mb^'i^^ 
 
 
 Copyright, 1891, 
 
 BY 
 
 The Cassino Art Co. 
 
THE HIGH TIDE ON THE COAST OF 
 LINCOLNSHIRE. 
 
 " The olde sea wall {he cried) is dowiie. 
 
 The risino- tide comes on apace, 
 And boats adrift in yonder towne 
 
 Go sailin y tippe the market-place.'' 
 He sbook as one that looks on death: 
 
 "God save you, mother I " straight le siith; 
 ''Where is my wife, Hliiabeth ?" 
 
THE MORNING WATCH. 
 
 THE COMING IiV OF THE ''MERMAIDENr 
 
 The moon is bleached as white as wool. 
 
 And just dropping under; 
 Every star is gone but three. 
 
 And they hang far asunder, — 
 There's a sea -ghost all in gray, 
 
 A tall shape of ivonder ! 
 
PRESENT. 
 
 A meadow where the grass was deep, 
 Rich, square, and golden to the view, 
 
 A belt of elms with level sweep 
 About it grew. 
 
 The sun beat down on it, the line 
 Of shade was clear beneath the trees; 
 
 There, by a clustering eglantine, 
 We sat at ease. 
 
# 
 
THE FOUR. BRIDGES. 
 
 But those old bridges claim another look. 
 
 Our brattling river tumbles through the one; 
 The second spans a shallow, weedy brook; 
 
 Beneath the others, and beneath the sun, 
 Lie two long stilly pools, and on their breasts 
 
 Picture their wooden piles, encased in swallow s nests. 
 

LOVES THREAD OF GOLD. 
 
 In the night she told a story, 
 
 In the night and all night through. 
 While the moon was in her glory, 
 
 And the branches dropped with dew. 
 Twas my life she told, and round it 
 
 Rose the years as from a deep; 
 In the world's great heart she found it, 
 
 Cradled like a child asleep. 
 In the night I saw her weaving 
 
 By the misty moonbeam cold, 
 All the weft her shuttle cleaving 
 With a sacred thread of gold. 
 
ABSENT. 
 
 We sat on grassy slopes that meet 
 With sudden dip the level strand; 
 
 The trees hung overhead — our feet 
 Were on the sand. 
 
 Two silent girls, a thoughtfid man, 
 We sunned ourselves in open light. 
 
 And felt such April airs as fan 
 The Isle of Wight; 
 
REFLECTIONS. 
 
 I see the pool more clear by half 
 Than pools where other waters laugh 
 
 Up at the breasts of coot and rail. 
 There, as she passed it on her way, 
 I s.iw reflected yesterday 
 
 A maiden with a milking-pail. 
 
/?v- P\riLfXTlJN§ 
 
THE LONG WHITE SEAM. 
 
 As I came round the harbor hiioy, 
 
 The lights began to gleam, 
 No wave the land-locked water stirred, 
 
 The crags were white as cream; 
 And I marked my love by candle-light 
 
 Sewing her long white seam. 
 Ifs aye sewing ashore, yny dear, 
 
 Watch and steer at sea, 
 IT s' reef and furl, and haul the line, 
 
 Set sail and think of thee. 
 
Ht Ofl&Whnt'StA 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 ll 
 
 014 494 058 1 
 
 '^ 
 
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 
 
 014 494 058 1 #