AELFRIDA
TILLYARD.
*MYSELF.
SOMETHING
of
joy
I
feel and
something
fear
When
to
my soul
's
own
depths
I
gaze
adown
.
'
Tis
dark
and
fiery
like
a
living
town
,
And
cries
and
strivings
rise
as
I
bend
near
.
Yet from
the
shadowed
murk
of
streets
there
rear
Full many
a
pure
church
cross
and spire
that crown
And
cast
a
halo
o'
er
the city
's
frown
,
Or make
a
star by which
the
vessels
steer
.
Touched
are
they
not
by
all
the
strife
below
;
Still
and
erect
they
stand
;
God
made
them
so.
But
in
and
out the
crowded
streets
,
it
seems
,
Is
heard
the
laughter
of
a
little
child
,
And
,
clasped
about
the
city
sin
-
defiled
,
There
lies the magic
country
-
side
of
dreams
.
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