Old Goodman's Farm is rank sea-sand,
And was this thousand year:
But it shall turn to rich plough land
Before I change my dear.

O, Fairfield Church is water-bound
From autumn to the spring;
But it shall turn to high hill ground
Before my bells do ring.

O, leave me walk on the Brookland Road,
In the thunder and warm rain--
O, leave me look where my love goed,
And p'raps I'll see her again!

_Low down--low down!
Where the liddle green lanterns shine--
O maids, I've done with 'ee all but one,
And she can never be mine!_

[Footnote A: Earl Godwin of the Goodwin Sands?]




THE SACK OF THE GODS


Strangers drawn from the ends of the earth, jewelled and plumed were we.
I was Lord of the Inca race, and she was Queen of the Sea.