A Triton, drowsy as the god of Sleep,
From horn uplifted pours a limpid stream
Farewell, rewards and fairies,
Good housewives now may say,
The ghosts of all things past parade, Emerging from the mist and shade
Pixie, kobold, elf, and sprite
All are on their rounds to-night,-
It's not the milk from my bosom,
But my blood, that she sucks in.
THIS is the glamour of the world antique:
The thyme-scents of Hymettus fill the air,
On Tiber's banks, Tiber, whose waters glide
In slow meanders down to Gaigra's side;
To Archimedes once a scholar came,
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You will betray me--oh, deny it not!
What right have I, alas, to say you nay?
United thus, what horrour can appeare
Worthy our sorrow, anger, or our feare?
That's got no more discretion than
An idiotic goose?
Please your Grace, from out your store
Give an alms to one that's poor,
WENT he forth to find at fall of night
that haughty house, and heed wherever
Lyth and lystyn, gentilmen,
All that nowe be here;
"OH, when I was a little Ghost,
A merry time had we!
IT is a summer evening, calm and fair, A warm, yet freshening glow is in the air;
In Love's name you are charged hereby
To make a speedy hue and cry,
What Stoick could his steely brest containe
(If Zeno self, or who were made beside
From Virtue's paths, when hapless men depart,
The first avenger is the culprit's heart;
Then, as my tears could never bring
The friendly Phantom back,
I am almost afraid of the wind out there. The dead leaves skip on the porches bare,
Zacho the King rode out of old
(And truth is what I tell)
I will sing of thee, Great Sea-Mother,
Whose white arms gather
THUS Tapistry of old, the Walls adorn'd,
Ere noblest Dames the artful Shuttle scorn'd:
The sun climbs
from cool streams
Where the rough Caigra rolls the surgy wave,
Urging his thunders thro' the echoing cave;
"O hone a rie'! O hone a rie!"
The pride of Albin's line is o'er,
"Build at Kallundborg by the sea
A church as stately as church may be,
HROTHGAR answered, helmet of Scyldings: --
"I knew him of yore in his youthful days;
I sang of leaves, of leaves of gold, and leaves of gold there grew:
Of wind I sang, a wind there came and in the branches blew.
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