“When nigh without, as in old days, The ancient quire of voice and string Seemed singing words of prayer and praise As they had used to sing: XIII “‘While shepherds watch’d their flocks by night,’— Thus swells the long familiar sound In many a quaint symphonic flight— To, ‘Glory shone around.’ XIV “The sons defined their fathers’ tones, The widow his whom she had wed, And others in the minor moans The viols of the dead. XV “Something supernal has the sound As verse by verse the strain proceeds, And stilly staring on the ground Each roysterer holds and heeds. XVI “Towards its chorded closing bar Plaintively, thinly, waned the hymn, Yet lingered, like the notes afar Of banded seraphim. XVII “With brows abashed, and reverent tread, The hearkeners sought the tavern door: But nothing, save wan moonlight, spread The empty highway o’er. XVIII “While on their hearing fixed and tense The aerial music seemed to sink, As it were gently moving thence Along the river brink. XIX “Then did the Quick pursue the Dead By crystal Froom that crinkles there; And still the viewless quire ahead Voiced the old holy air. XX “By Bank-walk wicket, brightly bleached, It passed, and ’twixt the hedges twain, Dogged by the living; till it reached The bottom of Church Lane. XXI “There, at the turning, it was heard Drawing to where the churchyard lay: But when they followed thitherward It smalled, and died away. XXII “Each headstone of the quire, each mound, Confronted them beneath the moon; But no more floated therearound That ancient Birth-night tune. XXIII “There Dewy lay by the gaunt yew tree, There Reuben and Michael, a pace behind, And Bowman with his family By the wall that the ivies bind . . . XXIV “As from a dream each sobered son Awoke, and musing reached his door: ’Twas said that of them all, not one Sat in a tavern more.” XXV —The sad man ceased; and ceased to heed His listener, and crossed the leaze From Moaning Hill towards the mead— The Mead of Memories. 1897. THE CHRISTENING WHOSE child is this they bring Into the aisle?— At so superb a thing The congregation smile And turn their heads awhile. Its eyes are blue and bright, Its cheeks like rose; Its simple robes unite Whitest of calicoes With lawn, and satin bows.