Who can override you? Let the horses go! Hunting in your dreams, Through the snowstorm hurled, Seaward round the world! Come! as came our fathers, Heralded by thee, Conquering from the eastward Lords by land and sea. Come! and strong within us Stir the Vikings' blood; Bracing brain and sinew; Blow, thou wind of God! C. Kingsley. CLEAR AND COOL CLEAR and cool, clear and cool, By shining shingle and foaming weir; And the ivied wall where the church-bell rings, Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child. Dank and foul, dank and foul, By the smoky town in its murky cowl; Who dare sport with the sin-defiled? Strong and free, strong and free, The flood gates are open, away to the sea, Cleansing my streams as I hurry along, To the golden sands, and the leaping bar, And the taintless tide that awaits me afar. As I lose myself in the infinite main, Like a soul that has sinned and is pardoned again, Undefiled, for the undefiled; Play by me, bathe in me, mother and child. C. Kingsley. TO THE EVENING STAR GEM of the crimson-colour'd Even, Why at the closing gates of heaven, So fair thy pensile beauty burns To Peace, to Pleasure, and to Love Thine is the breathing, blushing hour O! sacred to the fall of day Shine on her chosen green resort Shine on her sweetly scented road Shine where my charmer's sweeter breath Where, winnow'd by the gentle air, Thus, ever thus, at day's decline T. Campbell. SONG TO THE EVENING STAR STAR that bringest home the bee, And sett'st the weary labourer free! Appearing when Heaven's breath and brow Come to the luxuriant skies, Whilst the landscape's odours rise, From cottages whose smoke unstirr'd Star of love's soft interviews, Their remembrancer in Heaven Of thrilling vows thou art, Too delicious to be riven By absence from the heart. T. Campbell. THE DAFFODILS I WANDER'D lonely as a cloud That floats on high o'er vales and hills, When all at once I saw a crowd, A host of golden daffodils, Beside the lake, beneath the trees, Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. Continuous as the stars that shine Ten thousand saw I at a glance Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. The waves beside them danced, but they In such a jocund company! I gazed and gazed-but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought; For oft, when on my couch I lie W. Wordsworth. |