PORTRAIT OF A MAN
WITH RED HAIR
PART I
THE SEA LIKE BRONZE...
I
You're my friend:
I was the man the Duke spoke to:
I helped the Duchess to cast off his yoke too;
So here's the tale from beginning to end,
My friend!
∵
Ours is a great wild country;
If you climb to our castle's top,
I don't see where your eye can stop;
For when you've passed the cornfield country.
Where vineyards leave off, flocks are packed.
And sheep-range leads to cattle-tract.
And cattle-tract to open-chase.
And open-chase to the very base
Of the mountain where, at a funeral pace,
Round about, solemn and slow,
One by one, row after row.
Up and up the pine trees go.
Go, like black priests up, and so
Down the other side again
To another greater, wilder country....
'To another greater, wilder country...
'To another greater...'
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