The rain had poured all day, but cleared at night, When, with her little basket on her arm, She left the door-step of that seaside farm; The weeping tamarisk glistened in the light, And chanticleer's green feathers softly waved Against the dying sunshine. Forth she fared, Our host's sweet child, his Phoebe golden-haired, To gather shells, wherewith the beach was paved; At dusk, she took the homeward path that led Beneath yon dark-blue ridge, when, sad to tell, On her fair head the gloomy Lias fell, Crumbled by storms, - they found her bruised and dead: Her basket-store was scattered by the fall, But loving hands replaced and kept them all. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...BEFORE ACTION by WILLIAM NOEL HODGSON SAINT PAUL: 1 by FREDERICK WILLIAM HENRY MYERS AMORETTI: 70 by EDMUND SPENSER TO THE FOUR COURTS, PLEASE by JAMES STEPHENS ENVOY: 5. TO MY NAME-CHILD by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON PURIFICATION OF YE B. VIRGIN (TO A BASE, A TENOR, AND TWO TREBLES) by JOSEPH BEAUMONT APPLE SAUCE! by EDITH GRACE BERKNESS |