The sea gives her shells to the shingle, The earth gives her streams to the sea; They are many, but my gift is single, My verses, the first-fruits of me. Let the wind take the green and the grey leaf, Cast forth without fruit upon air; Take rose-leaf and vine-leaf and bay-leaf Blown loose from the hair. * * * * * Though the world of your hands be more gracious And lovelier in lordship of things, Clothed round by sweet art with the spacious Warm heaven of her imminent wings; Let them enter, unfledged and nigh fainting, For the love of old loves and lost times, And receive in your palace of painting This revel of rhymes. * * * * * Though the many lights dwindle to one light, There is help if the heaven has one; Though the skies be discrowned of the sunlight, And the earth dispossessed of the sun, They have moonlight and sleep for repayment When refreshed as a bride, and set free, With stars and sea-winds in her raiment, Night sinks on the sea. ―――― “DEDICATION TO J. S.” This parody, dedicated to the notorious “John Stiles,” of the old law-books, was written by Mr. Pollock, and originally appeared in _The Pall Mall Gazette_. It has since been included in a small volume (published by Macmillan & Co., London, 1875) entitled “Leading Cases done into English,” by an apprentice of Lincoln’s Inn. When waters are rent with commotion Of storms, or with sunlight made whole, The river still pours to the ocean The stream of its effluent soul; You, too, from all lips of all living Of worship disthroned and discrowned, Shall know by these gifts of my giving That faith is yet found. By the sight of my song-flight of cases That bears on wings woven of rhyme Names set for a sign in high places By sentence of men of old time; From all counties they meet and they mingle, Dead suitors whom Westminster saw; There are many, but your name is single, The flower of pure law. When bounty of grantors was gracious To enfeoff you in fee and in tail, The bounds of your land were made spacious With lordship from Sale unto Dale; Trusts had you, and services loyal, Lips sovereign for ending of strife, And the names of the world’s names most royal For light of your life. Ah desire that was urgent to Romeward, And feet that were swifter than fate’s, And the noise of the speed of them homeward For mutation and fall of estates! Ah the days when your riding to Dover Was prayed for and precious as gold, The journeys, the deeds that are over, The praise of them told.