Jean Ingelow,
High Tide On the Coast Of Lincolnshire
(1892)
“ Downe drifted to thy dwelling-place. That flow strewed wrecks about the grass, That ebbe swept out the flocks to sea; A fatal ebbe and flow, alas! To manye more than myne and mee: But each will mourn his own (she saith) ”
Jean Ingelow,
High Tide On the Coast Of Lincolnshire
(1892)
“ Elizabeth!" (A sweeter woman ne'er drew breath Than my sonne's wife, Elizabeth.) "The olde sea wall (he cried) is downe, The rising tide comes on apace, And boats adrift in yonder towns Go sailing uppe the market-place." He shook as one that looks on death. "God save you, mother!" straight he saith ”
