Page:Enoch Arden, etc - Tennyson - 1864.djvu/18

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ENOCH ARDEN.
The prettiest little damsel in the port,And Philip Ray the miller’s only son,And Enoch Arden, a rough sailor’s ladMade orphan by a winter shipwreck, play’dAmong the waste and lumber of the shore,Hard coils of cordage, swarthy fishing-nets,Anchors of rusty fluke, and boats updrawn;And built their castles of dissolving sandTo watch them overflow’d, or following upAnd flying the white breaker, daily leftThe little footprint daily wash’d away.
 A narrow cave ran in beneath the cliff:In this the children play’d at keeping house.Enoch was host one day, Philip the next,While Annie still was mistress; but at timesEnoch would hold possession for a week:‘This is my house and this my little wife.’‘Mine too’ said Philip ‘turn and turn about:’When, if they quarrell’d, Enoch stronger-made
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