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Then deep in tangle-woods to fight the fierce sea
unicorn, And send him foild and bellowing back, for all
his ivory horn; To leave the subtle sworder-fish of bony blade
forlorn; And for the ghastly-grinning shark to laugh his
jaws to scorn; To leap down on the kraken's back, where 'mid
Norwegian isles He lies, a lubber anchorage for sudden shallow'd
miles; 'Till snorting, like an under-sea volcano, off he
Meanwhile to swing, a-buffeting the far astonish'd
shoals Of his back-browsing ocean-calves ; or, haply in
a cove, Shell-strown, and consecrate of old to some Un
diné's love, To find the long-hair'd mermaidens; or, hard by
icy lands, To wrestle with the Sea-serpent, upon cerulean
O broad-arm’d Fisher of the deep, whose sports
can equal thine ? The Dolphin weighs a thousand tons, that tugs
thy cable line; And night by night, 'tis thy delight, thy glory day
by day, Through sable sea and breaker white, the giant
game to playBut shamer of our little sports ! forgive the name
I gaveA fisher's joy is to destroy—thine office is to save.
O lodger in the sea-kings' halls, couldst thou but
understand Whose be the white bones by thy side, or who
that dripping band, Slow swaying in the heaving wave, that round
about thee bend, With sounds like breakers in a dream blessing
their ancient friend Oh, couldst thou know what heroes glide with
larger steps round thee, Thine iron side would swell with pride; thou’dst
leap within the sea.
Give honour to their memories who left the plea
sant strand, To shed their blood so freely for the love of Fa
therland, Who left their chance of quiet age and grassy
churchyard grave, So freely, for a restless bed amid the tossing waveOh, though our anchor may not be all I have
fondly sung, Honour him for their memory, whose bones he goes among !
AIR daffodils, we weep to see
You haste away so soon ;
Until the hastening day
Will go with you along.
We have as short a spring ;
AN ANGEL IN THE HOUSE.
OW sweet it were, if without feeble fright,
Or dying of the dreadful beauteous sight,
be if they will, and we prepare
URLY dozing humble-bee !
Where thou art is clime for me. Let them sail for Porto Rique, Far off heats through seas to seek, I will follow thee alone, Thou animated torrid-zone ! Zig-zag steerer, desert-cheerer, Let me chase thy waving lines, Keep me nearer, me thy hearer, Singing over shrubs and vines. Insect-lover of the sun, Joy of thy dominion ! Sailor of the atmosphere, Swimmer through the waves of air, Voyager of light and noon, Epicurean of June, Wait, I prithee, till I come Within ear-shot of thy hum; All without is martyrdom. When the south wind, in May days, With a net of shining haze Silvers the horizon wall, And, with softness touching all, Tints the human countenance With a colour of romance, And infusing subtle heats, Turns the sod to violets, Thou in sunny solitudes, Rover of the underwoods, The green silence dost displace, With thy mellow breezy bass.