Cambridge Poets 1900–1913

A. V. Ratcliffe . Nay, lovely lass , ' tis well ,' tis well , Thou floatest white in the dark pool 's arms , Thou drownest deep thy dark alarms , And liest peaceful in the hell Of thine hair , that floats and charms . He sleeps , thy brave , thy handsome lad, Who sang awhile on the rolling wold , He lies deep down , in his red suit clad , He dreams with his heart that once was glad , And his mad red lips are cold . Barden Towers in a mist of rain , The trees all green and yellow and gold , A wistful gloom on the hills of pain And a tale of sadness told . 165