So thou, with sails how swift! hast reached the shore And day by day some current's thwarting force And now, farewell! Time unrevoked has run And, while the wings of Fancy still are free, 1 Quoted, perhaps from memory, from Garth's Dispensary, where we find "To die is landing on some silent shore Where billows never break, nor tempests roar." 2 His mother was descended by four different lines from King Henry III. II. -O THAT WE TWO WERE MAYING O THAT we two were Maying Down the stream of the soft spring breeze; Like children with violets playing In the shade of the whispering trees! O that we two sat dreaming On the sward of some sheep-trimmed down, Over river and mead and town! O that we two lay sleeping In our nest in the churchyard sod, With our limbs at rest on the quiet earth's breast, And our souls at home with God! C. KINGSLEY 12. THE SCHOLAR My days among the Dead are passed; Where'er these casual eyes are cast, My never-failing friends are they With them I take delight in weal, And while I understand and feel My cheeks have often been bedewed My thoughts are with the Dead; with them Their virtues love, their faults condemn, And from their lessons seek and find My hopes are with the Dead; anon Yet leaving here a name, I trust, R. SOUTHEY 13. THE SHIP O' THE FIEND "O WHERE hae ye been, my lang-lost lover, This lang seven years and mair?” "O I'm come again to seek your love And the vows that ye did swear." "Now haud your tongue o' my love and vows, For they can breed but strife ; Now haud your tongue o' my former vows, He turned him right and round about, "I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground, "I might hae had a noble lady, Far beyond the sea; I might hae had a noble lady, "If ye might hae had a noble lady, Ye might hae taken the noble lady, “O fause are the vows o' womankind, But fair is their fause bodie ; I wad never hae trodden on Irish ground, Were it no for the love o' thee! "For I despised the pearls and rings, And the fair lady also ; And I am come back to my ain true love, But with me she'll not go." "My husband he is a carpenter, And earns gude bread wi' his hand; And I hae borne him a little son; Wi' you I winna gang." "Ye may leave your husband to himsel', And your little son also; And sail wi' me across the sea: “O what hae you to keep me wi', If I should forsake my good husband, "See ye not yon seven pretty ships— "There's mantles warm to wrap my love, She turned her round upon the shore, Their mainyards and their topmasts high And she has gone to her little young son, "O fare ye weel, my little son! She has drawn the slippers on her feet, "O how do you like the ship?” he said And how do you like the bold mariners “O weel I like the ship," she said, But where are a' your mariners? |