O The GALLANT fisher’s life,
It is the best of any!
’T is full of pleasure, void of strife,
And ’t is beloved by many;
Other joys
Are but toys;
Only this
Lawful is;
For our skill
Breeds no ill,
But content and pleasure.* * * * *
When we...
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From “The Two Foscari”
HOW many a time have I
Cloven, with arm still lustier, breast more daring,
The wave all roughened; with a swimmer’s stroke
Flinging the billows back from my drenched hair,
And laughing from my lips the audacious brine,
Which kissed it like a wine-cup, rising o’er
The waves as they arose, and prouder... -
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... -
When the gray lake-water rushes
Past the dripping alder-bushes,
And the bodeful autumn wind
In the fir-tree weeps and hushes,—When the air is sharply damp
Round the solitary camp,
And the moose-bush in the thicket
Glimmers like a scarlet lamp,—When the birches twinkle yellow,
And the cornel bunches mellow,... -
SWEET is the voice that calls
From the babbling waterfalls
In meadows where the downy seeds are flying;
And soft the breezes blow,
And eddying come and go
In faded gardens where the rose is dying.Among the stubbled corn
The blithe quail pipes at morn,
The merry partridge drums in... -
The Latter rain,—it falls in anxious haste
Upon the sun-dried fields and branches bare,
Loosening with searching drops the rigid waste
As if it would each root’s lost strength repair;
But not a blade grows green as in the spring;
No swelling twig puts forth its thickening leaves;
The robins only mid the harvests sing,
Pecking the grain... -
Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!
Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun!
Conspiring with him how to load and bless
With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run—
To bend with apples the mossed cottage trees,
And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core—
To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells
With a sweet... -
From the German by Charles Timothy Brooks
SICKLES sound;
On the ground
Fast the ripe ears fall;
Every maiden’s bonnet
Has blue blossoms on it:
Joy is over all.Sickles ring,
Maidens sing
To the sickle’s sound;
Till the moon is beaming,
And the stubble gleaming,
Harvest... -
[Virginia]
SUMMER has gone,
And fruitful Autumn has advanced so far
That there is warmth, not heat, in the broad sun,
And you may look, with naked eye, upon
The ardors of his car;
The stealthy frosts, whom his spent looks embolden,
Are making the green leaves golden.What a brave splendor
Is in the... -
Waken, lords and ladies gay,
On the mountain dawns the day;
All the jolly chase is here,
With hawk and horse and hunting-spear!
Hounds are in their couples yelling,
Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling,
Merrily, merrily mingle they,
“Waken, lords and ladies gay.”Waken, lords and ladies gay,
The mist has left...