Page:Andromeda, and other poems - Kingsley (1858).djvu/149

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ON THE DEATH OF A CERTAIN JOURNAL
SO die, thou child of stormy dawn,Thou winter flower, forlorn of nurse;Chilled early by the bigot's curse,The pedant's frown, the worldling's yawn.
Fair death, to fall in teeming June,When every seed which drops to earthTakes root, and wins a second birthFrom steaming shower and gleaming moon.
Fall warm, fall fast, thou mellow rain;Thou rain of God, make fat the land;That roots which parch in burning sandMay bud to flower and fruit again.
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