FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145  
146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   >>   >|  
ch! The Winds too are thy subjects; from the breeze, That, like a child upon a holiday, On the high mountain's van pursues the down Of the gray thistle, ere the autumnal shower Steals soft, and mars his pastime; to the King Of Hurricanes, that sounds his mighty shell, And bids Tornado sweep the Western world. Sylph of the Summer Gale, on thee I call! 30 Oh, come, when now gay June is in her car, Wafting the breath of roses as she moves; Come to this garden bower, which I have hung With tendrils, and the fragrant eglantine, And mandrake, rich with many mantling stars! 'Tis pleasant, when thy breath is on the leaves Without, to rest in this embowering shade, And mark the green fly, circling to and fro, O'er the still water, with his dragon wings, Shooting from bank to bank, now in quick turns, 40 Then swift athwart, as is the gazer's glance, Pursuing still his mate; they, with delight, As if they moved in morris, to the sound Harmonious of this ever-dripping rill, Now in advance, now in retreat, now round, Dart through their mazy rings, and seem to say: The Summer and the Sun are ours! But thou, Sylph of the Summer Gale, delay a while Thy airy flight, whilst here Francesca leans, 50 And, charmed by Ossian's harp, seems in the breeze To hear Malvina's plaint; thou to her ear Come unperceived, like music of the song From Cona's vale of streams; _then_ with the bee, That sounds his horn, busied from flower to flower, Speed o'er the yellow meadows, breathing ripe Their summer incense; or amid the furze, That paints with bloom intense the upland crofts, With momentary essence tinge thy wings; Or in the grassy lanes, one after one, 60 Lift light the nodding foxglove's purple bell. Thence, to the distant sea, and where the flag Hangs idly down, without a wavy curl, Thou hoverest o'er the topmast, or dost raise The full and flowing mainsail: Steadily, The helmsman cries, as now thy breath is heard Among the stirring cordage o'er his head; So, steadily, he cries, as right he steers, Speeds our proud ship along the world of waves. Sylph, may thy favouring breath more gently blow, 70 More gently
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   121   122   123   124   125   126   127   128   129   130   131   132   133   134   135   136   137   138   139   140   141   142   143   144   145  
146   147   148   149   150   151   152   153   154   155   156   157   158   159   160   161   162   163   164   165   166   167   168   169   170   >>   >|  



Top keywords:
breath
 

Summer

 

sounds

 

breeze

 

flower

 
gently
 
yellow
 

summer

 
paints
 

intense


upland

 

crofts

 
breathing
 

incense

 
meadows
 

charmed

 
Ossian
 
flight
 

whilst

 

Francesca


Malvina

 

streams

 

momentary

 

busied

 

plaint

 

unperceived

 

cordage

 

stirring

 

steadily

 

flowing


mainsail

 
Steadily
 

helmsman

 

steers

 

favouring

 
Speeds
 

nodding

 
foxglove
 

purple

 
grassy

Thence
 

distant

 
hoverest
 
topmast
 

essence

 

morris

 
Wafting
 

Tornado

 
Western
 

fragrant