Imágenes de páginas
[graphic][subsumed][merged small][merged small]

Come, hoist the sail, the fast let go!

They're seated side by side ;
Wave chases wave in pleasant flow :

The bay is fair and wide.

The ripples lightly tap the boat.

Loose!–Give her to the wind !
She shoots ahead :— They're all afloat:

The strand is far behind.

No danger reach so fair a crew!

Thou goddess of the foam,
I'll ever pay thee worship due,

If thou wilt bring them home.

Fair ladies, fairer than the spray

The prow is dashing wide,
Soft breezes take you on your way,

Soft flow the blessed tide!

0, might I like those breezes be,

And touch that arching brow, I'd toil for ever on the sea

Where ye are floating now.

The boat goes tilting on the waves;

The waves go tilting by; There dips the duck ;- her back she laves ;

O'er head the sea-gulls fly.

Now, like the gulls that dart for prey,

The little vessel stoops;
Now rising, shoots along her way,

Like them, in easy swoops.

The sun-light falling on her sheet,

It glitters like the drift



Sparkling in scorn of summer's heat,

High up some mountain rift.

The winds are fresh; she's driving fast

Upon the bending tide,
The crinkling sail, and crinkling mast,

Go with her side by side.

Why dies the breeze away so soon?

Why hangs the pennant down? The sea is glass; the sun at noon. —

- Nay, lady, do not frown;

For, see, the winged fisher's plume

Is painted on the sea :
Below, a cheek of lovely bloom.

– Whose eyes look up at thee ?

She smiles; thou needst must smile on her.

And, see, beside her face
A rich, white cloud that doth not stir.-

What beauty, and what grace!

And pictured beach of yellow sand,

And peaked rock, and hill,
Change the smooth sea to fairy land.-

How lovely and how still !

From that far isle the thresher's flail

Strikes close upon the ear; The leaping fish, the swinging sail

Of yonder sloop sound near.



The birds, when winter shades the sky,

Fly o’er the seas away,
Where laughing isles in sunshine lie,

And summer breezes play:

And thus the friends that flutter near

While fortune's sun is warm, Are startled if a cloud appear,

And fly before the storm.

But when from winter's howling plains

Each other warbler's past,
The little snow bird still remains,

And cherups midst the blast.

Love, like that bird, when friendship’s throng

With fortune's sun depart,
Still lingers with its cheerful song,

And nestles on the heart.

« AnteriorContinuar »