She has no house to lay a guest in -- But one chill bed for all to rest in , That the pale suns and the stray bergs nest in . She has no strong white arms to fold you , But the ten-times-fingering weed to hold you Bound on the rocks where the tide has rolled you . Yet , when the signs of summer thicken , And the ice breaks , and the birch-buds quicken , Yearly you turn from our side , and sicken -- Sicken again for the shouts and the slaughters , -- You steal away to the lapping waters , And look at your ship in her winter quarters . You forget our mirth , and talk at the tables , The kine in the shed and the horse in the stables -- To pitch her sides and go over her cables ! Then you drive out where the storm-clouds swallow : And the sound of your oar-blades falling hollow Is all we have left through the months to follow . Ah , what is a Woman that you forsake her , And the hearth-fire and the home-acre , To go with the old grey Widow-maker ? It was too hot to run about in the open , so Dan asked their friend , old Hobden , to take their own dinghy from the pond and put her on the brook at the bottom of the garden . Her painted name was the Daisy , but for exploring expeditions she was the Golden Hind or the Long Serpent , or some such suitable name . Dan hiked and howked with a boat-hook -LRB- the brook was too narrow for sculls -RRB- , and Una punted with a piece of hop-pole . When they came to a very shallow place -LRB- the Golden Hind drew quite three inches of water -RRB- they disembarked and scuffled her over the gravel by her tow-rope , and when they reached the overgrown banks beyond the garden they pulled themselves up stream by the low branches . That day they intended to discover the North Cape like ` Othere , the old sea-captain ' , in the book of verses which Una had brought with her ; but on account of the heat they changed it to a voyage up the Amazon and the sources of the Nile . Even on the shaded water the air was hot and heavy with drowsy scents , while outside , through breaks in the trees , the sunshine burned the pasture like fire . The kingfisher was asleep on his watching-branch , and the blackbirds scarcely took the trouble to dive into the next bush . Dragonflies wheeling and clashing were the only things at work , except the moorhens and a big Red Admiral , who flapped down out of the sunshine for a drink . When they reached Otter Pool the Golden Hind grounded comfortably on a shallow , and they lay beneath a roof of close green , watching the water trickle over the flood-gates down the mossy brick chute from the mill-stream to the brook . A big trout -- the children knew him well -- rolled head and shoulders at some fly that sailed round the bend , while , once in just so often , the brook rose a fraction of an inch against all the wet pebbles , and they watched the slow draw and shiver of a breath of air through the tree-tops . Then the little voices of the slipping water began again . ` It 's like the shadows talking , is n't it ? ' said Una . She had given up trying to read .
XXXXX lay over the bows , trailing his hands in the current .
Cape Dan Hind birch-buds clashing scents sea-captain tow-rope tree-tops watching-branch