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When I was a boy, it was all my joy
To rest in its scented shade,
When the sun was high, and the river nigh
When, floating along, like a winged song,
And choose for his bower the lime-tree flower,
When the evening star stole forth, afar,
Ah! years have fled; and the linden, dead,
And the river creeps through its slimy deeps,
Yet they live again, in the dreamer's brain:
Which pass with a sigh, and seem to die,
Survive in the poet's song.
ADDRESS TO THE OCEAN.
O THOU vast ocean! ever-sounding sea!
Thou thing that windest round the solid world
Like a huge animal, which, downward hurled
From the black clouds, lies weltering and alone,
Thou speakest in the east and in the west
Fleets come and go, and shapes that have no life
Or motion, yet are moved and meet in strife.
The earth hath nought of this; nor chance nor change Ruffles its surface, and no spirits dare
Give answer to the tempest-waken air;
But o'er its wastes the weakly tenants range
Dies in his stormy manhood; and the skies
Is beautiful, and when thy silver waves
I love to wander on thy pebbled beach,
Marking the sunlight at the evening hour,
And hearken to the thoughts thy waters teach"Eternity, eternity, and power."
THE LAKE OF GENEVA.
CLEAR, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake,
To waft me from distraction; once I loved
Sounds sweet as if a sister's voice reproved,
That I with stern delights should e'er have been so moved.
It is the hush of night, and all between
Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear, Mellowed and mingling, yet distinctly seen, Save darkened Jura, whose capt heights appear Precipitously steep; and drawing near, There breathes a living fragrance from the shore, Of flowers yet fresh with childhood; on the ear Drops the light drip of the suspended oar, Or chirps the grasshopper one good-night carol more;
He is an evening reveller, who makes
The sky is changed!-and such a change! O night,
From peak to peak, the rattling crags among,
And this is in the night-most glorious night! Thou wert not sent for slumber! let me be A sharer in thy fierce and far delightA portion of the tempest and of thee! How the lit lake shines, a phosphoric sea, And the big rain comes dancing to the earth! And now again 'tis black-and now, the glee Of the loud hills shakes with its mountain-mirth, As if they did rejoice o'er the young earthquake's birth.
Now, where the quick Rhone thus hath cleft his way,
The brightest through these parted hills hath forked
His lightnings, as if he did understand,
That in such gaps as desolation worked,
There the hot shaft should blast whatever therein lurked.
Most glorious orb! that wert a worship, ere
Which gladdened, on their mountain tops, the hearts
Who chose thee for his shadow! Thou chief star
And hearts of all who walk within thy rays!
O! THAT the Desert were my dwelling-place,
That I might all forget the human race,
In deeming such inhabit many a spot?
Though with them to converse can rarely be our lot.