THE CHILD IN THE WILDERNESS SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE NCINCTURED with a twine of leaves- A lovely Boy was plucking fruits The moon was bright, the air was free, On many a shrub and many a tree; It was a climate where, they say, The night is more belov'd than day. But who that beauteous Boy beguil'd That beauteous Boy! to linger here? Alone by night, a little child, In place so silent and so wild Has he no friend, no loving mother near? ANSWER TO A CHILD'S QUESTION SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE O you ask what the birds say? The Sparrow, the The Linnet, and Thrush say, "I love, and I love!"" And singing and loving all come back together. 'Tis no wonder that he's full of joy to the brim, THE INCHCAPE ROCK ROBERT SOUTHEY O stir in the air, no stir in the sea, N° The ship was as still as she could be, Without either sign or sound of their shock The good old Abbot of Aberbrothok When the Rock was hid by the surge's swell, The sun in heaven was shining gay, All things were joyful on that day; The sea-birds scream'd as they wheel'd round, And there was joyance in their sound. The buoy of the Inchcape Bell was seen He felt the cheering power of Spring, His eye was on the Inchcape float; And I'll plague the priest of Aberbrothok." The boat is lower'd, the boatmen row, Down sunk the bell, with a gurgling sound, The bubbles rose and burst around; Quoth Sir Ralph, "The next who comes to the Rock Won't bless the Abbot of Aberbrothok." Sir Ralph the Rover sail'd away He scour'd the seas for many a day; And now grown rich with plunder'd store, So thick a haze o'erspreads the sky On the deck the Rover takes his stand, Quoth Sir Ralph, "It will be lighter soon, "Canst hear," said one, "the breakers roar? For methinks we should be near the shore; Now where we are I cannot tell, But I wish I could hear the Inchcape Bell." They hear no sound, the swell is strong, Though the wind hath fallen, they drift along, Till the vessel strikes with a shivering shock; Cried they, "It is the Inchcape Rock!" Sir Ralph the Rover tore his hair, But even in his dying fear One dreadful sound could the Rover hear, The fiends below were ringing his knell. |