Poems you ought to know . ng to the murmuring keel. Over the rail My hand I trailWithin the shadow of the sail. A joy intense. The cooling senseGlides down my drowsy indolence. With dreamful eyes My spirit liesWhere summer sings and never dies,— Oerveiled with vines. She glows and shinesAmong her future oil and wines. Her children hid, The cliffs gamboling with the gamboling kid; Or down the walls. With tipsy calls,Laugh on the rocks like waterfalls. 51 The fishers child With tresses wild,Unto the smooth, bright sand beguiled, With glowing lips, , Sings as she gazes at the fa
Poems you ought to know . ng to the murmuring keel. Over the rail My hand I trailWithin the shadow of the sail. A joy intense. The cooling senseGlides down my drowsy indolence. With dreamful eyes My spirit liesWhere summer sings and never dies,— Oerveiled with vines. She glows and shinesAmong her future oil and wines. Her children hid, The cliffs gamboling with the gamboling kid; Or down the walls. With tipsy calls,Laugh on the rocks like waterfalls. 51 The fishers child With tresses wild,Unto the smooth, bright sand beguiled, With glowing lips, , Sings as she gazes at the far-off ships. Yon deep bark goesWhere Traffic lands of sun to lands of snows ;— This happier one Its course has run[From lands of snow to lands of sun. O happy ship. To rise and dip,With the blue crystal at your lip! O happy crew. My heart with youSails, and sails, and sings anew! No more, no more The worldy shoreUpbraids me with its loud uproar I With dreamful eyes My spirit liesUnder the walls of Paradise!. 52 DIRGE FOR A SOLDIER. BY GEORGE H. Henry Boker, the American poet, was born In PhiladelphiaIn 1823, and died there in 1890. He was educated at Princeton, andstudied law, but never practiced. In 1871 he was made Minister Resi-dent to Turkey, and from 1875 to 1879 he was Minister to Russia. Hewrote several volumes of verse and the tragedies Francesca daRimini, Anne Boleyn, and Leonore de Guzman. Close his eyes; his work is done! What to him is friend or foeman,Rise of moon or set of sun, Hand of man or kiss of woman ? Lay him low, lay him low. In the clover or the snow! What cares he ? He cannot know;Lay him low! As man may, he fought his fight, Proved his truth by his endeavor;Let him sleep in solemn might, Sleep for ever and forever. Lay him low, lay him low, In the clover or the snow I What cares he? He cannot know;Lay him low! Fold him in his countrys stars, Roll the drum and fire the volley IWhat to him are all our wars, What but death bemo
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