Poem by Isabella Valancy Crawford

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"BITE deep and wide, O Axe, the tree!
What doth thy bold voice promise me?"

"I promise thee all joyous things
That furnish forth the lives of kings;

"For every silver ringing blow
Cities and palaces shall grow."

"Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree!
Tell wider prophecies to me."

"When rust hath gnawed me deep and red.
A nation strong shall lift his head.

"His crown the very heavens shall smite,
Aeons shall build him in his might."

"Bite deep and wide, O Axe, the tree!
Bright Seer, help on thy prophecy!"

1. Late Loved - Well Loved
2. The Camp of Souls
3. A Battle
4. Bouche-Mignonne
5. How Deacon Fry Bought a “Duchess”

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