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[Decoration]
[Footnote B: The words here used are the calls of the gondoliers, indicating the direction they are rowing. "Sciar" is to stop the boat.]
_FROM LOVE AND NATURE._
The Sun came through the frosty mist Most like a dead-white moon; Thy soothing tones I seemed to list, As voices in a swoon.
Still as an island stood our s.h.i.+p, The waters gave no sound, But when I touched thy quivering lip I felt the world go round.
We seemed the only sentient things Upon that silent sea: Our hearts the only living springs Of all that yet could be!
[Decoration]
JEAN INGELOW.
1830.
_THE LONG WHITE SEAM._
As I came round the harbor buoy, The lights began to gleam, No wave the land-locked water stirred, The crags were white as cream; And I marked my love by candle-light Sewing her long white seam.
It 's aye sewing ash.o.r.e, my dear, Watch and steer at sea, It 's reef and furl, and haul the line, Set sail and think of thee.
I climbed to reach her cottage door; O sweetly my love sings!
Like a shaft of light her voice breaks forth, My soul to meet it springs As the s.h.i.+ning water leaped of old, When stirred by angel wings.
Aye longing to list anew, Awake and in my dream, But never a song she sang like this, Sewing her long white seam.
Fair fall the lights, the harbor lights, That brought me in to thee, And peace drop down on that low roof For the sight that I did see, And the voice, my dear, that rang so clear All for the love of me.
For O, for O, with brows bent low By the candle's flickering gleam, Her wedding gown it was she wrought, Sewing the long white seam.
_LOVE._
FROM "SONGS OF SEVEN."
I leaned out of window, I smelt the white clover, Dark, dark was the garden, I saw not the gate; "Now, if there be footsteps, he comes, my one lover-- Hush, nightingale, hus.h.!.+ O, sweet nightingale, wait Till I listen and hear If a step draweth near, For my love he is late!
"The skies in the darkness stoop nearer and nearer, A cl.u.s.ter of stars hangs like fruit in the tree, The fall of the water comes sweeter, comes clearer: To what art thou listening, and what dost thou see?
Let the star-cl.u.s.ters grow, Let the sweet waters flow, And cross quickly to me.
"You night moths that hover where honey brims over From sycamore blossoms, or settle or sleep; You glowworms, s.h.i.+ne out, and the pathway discover To him that comes darkling along the rough steep.
Ah, my sailor, make haste, For the time runs to waste, And my love lieth deep--
"Too deep for swift telling; and yet, my one lover, I 've conned thee an answer, it waits thee to-night."
By the sycamore pa.s.sed he, and through the white clover, Then all the sweet speech I had fas.h.i.+oned took flight; But I 'll love him more, more Than e'er wife loved before, Be the days dark or bright.
[Decoration]
_SWEET IS CHILDHOOD._
Sweet is childhood--childhood 's over, Kiss and part.
Sweet is youth; but youth 's a rover-- So 's my heart.
Sweet is rest; but by all showing Toil is nigh.
We must go. Alas! the going, Say "good-bye."
[Decoration]
[Decoration]
CHARLES KINGSLEY.
1819-1875.
_AIRLY BEACON._
Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon; Oh the pleasant sight to see s.h.i.+res and towns from Airly Beacon, While my love climbed up to me!
Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon; Oh the happy hours we lay Deep in fern on Airly Beacon, Courting through the summer's day!
Airly Beacon, Airly Beacon; Oh the weary haunt for me, All alone on Airly Beacon, With his baby on my knee!
_THE SANDS OF DEE._
"Oh, Mary, go and call the cattle home, And call the cattle home, And call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee;"
The western wind was wild and dark with foam, And all alone went she.
The western tide crept up along the sand, And o'er and o'er the sand, And round and round the sand, As far as eye could see.
The rolling mist came down and hid the land: And never home came she.
"Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair-- A tress of golden hair, A drowned maiden's hair Above the nets at sea?"
Was never salmon yet that shone so fair Among the stakes on Dee.
They rowed her in across the rolling foam, The cruel crawling foam, The cruel hungry foam, To her grave beside the sea: But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home Across the sands of Dee.
[Decoration]
_THREE FISHERS WENT SAILING._
