Tears fill'd his mild blue eye. On his white mule, across the bridge, Why sitt'st thou there, O Neckan, And play'st thy harp of gold? Sooner shall this my staff bear leaves, But, lo, the staff, it budded! It green'd, it branch'd, it waved. "O ruth of God," the priest cried out, "This lost sea-creature saved!" The cassock'd priest rode onwards, He wept: "The earth hath kindness, Earth, sea, and sky, and God above- In summer, on the headlands, The Baltic Sea along, Sits Neckan with his harp of gold, And sings this plaintive song. CALLICLES' SONG OF APOLLO From EMPEDOCLES ON ETNA MATTHEW ARNOLD N the sward at the cliff-top Lie strewn the white flocks; On the cliff-side the pigeons Roost deep in the rocks. In the moonlight the shepherds, What forms are these coming What sweet-breathing presence What voices enrapture The night's balmy prime? 'Tis Apollo comes leading They are lost in the hollows! They bathe on this mountain, EVENING From BACCHANALIA MATTHEW ARNOLD THE evening comes, the fields are still. Unheard all day, ascends again; See, pulsing with the first-born star, The evening comes, the fields are still. WHERE LIES THE LAND? ARTHUR HUGH CLOUGH HERE lies the land to which the ship would go? Far, far ahead, is all her seamen know. And where the land she travels from? Away, Far, far behind, is all that they can say. On sunny noons upon the deck's smooth face, On stormy nights when wild north-westers rave, Exults to bear, and scorns to wish it past. Where lies the land to which the ship would go? |