GET AMONGST THE REAL JAGGED STUFF."]

* * * * *


THE OLD WOMAN'S HOUSE ROCK, SCILLY.

"Old woman, old woman, old woman," said I,
"'Tis a mighty queer place to be building a home
In the teeth of the gales and the wash of the foam,
With nothing in view but the sea and the sky;
It cannot be cheerful or healthy or dry.
Why don't you go inland and rent a snug house,
With fowls in the garden and blossoming boughs,
Old woman, old woman, old woman?" said I.

"A garden have I at my hand
Beneath the green swell,
With pathways of glimmering sand
And borders of shell.
There twinkle the star-fish and there
Red jellies unfold;
The weed-banners ripple and flare
All purple and gold.
And have I no poultry? Oh, come
When the Equinox lulls;
The air is a-flash and a-hum
With the tumult of gulls;
They whirl in a shimmering cloud
Sun-bright on the breeze;