Page:Poems and ballads (IA balladspoems00swinrich).pdf/181

iii.

Green land and red land,

Moorside and headland,
Are white as dead land,
Are all as one;
Nor honied heather,
Nor bells to gather,
Fair with fair weather
And faithful sun:
Fierce frost has eaten
All flowers that sweeten
The fells rain‑beaten;
And winds their foes
Have made the snow's bed
Down in the rose‑bed;
Deep in the snow's bed bury the rose.

iv.

Bury her deeper

Than any sleeper;