A gallery of famous English and American poets . myne and mee; But each will mourne his own (she sayth). And sweeter woman neer drew breath Than my Sonnes wife, Elizabeth. I shall never hear her moreBy the reedv T^indis shore, 91 362 INGELOW. Cusha! Cusha! Gusha! calling, Ere the early dews be falling; I sliall never liear her song,Cusha! Cusha! all along Where the sunny Lindis floweth,Goeth, floweth ; From the meads where melick groweth, Where the water, winding down. Onward floweth to the town. I shall never see her more Where the reeds and rushes quiver, Shiver, quiver;Stand beside the sobb
A gallery of famous English and American poets . myne and mee; But each will mourne his own (she sayth). And sweeter woman neer drew breath Than my Sonnes wife, Elizabeth. I shall never hear her moreBy the reedv T^indis shore, 91 362 INGELOW. Cusha! Cusha! Gusha! calling, Ere the early dews be falling; I sliall never liear her song,Cusha! Cusha! all along Where the sunny Lindis floweth,Goeth, floweth ; From the meads where melick groweth, Where the water, winding down. Onward floweth to the town. I shall never see her more Where the reeds and rushes quiver, Shiver, quiver;Stand beside the sobbing river,Sobbing, throbbing, in its fallingTo the sandy, lonesome shore;I shall never hear her calling, Leave your meadow grasses mellow, Mellow, mellow;Quit your cowslips, cowslips yellow ;Come uppe, Whitefoot; come uppe, Lightfoot ;Quit your pipes of parsley hollow. Hollow, hollow ;Come uppe, Lightfoot; rise and follow; Lightfoot, Whitefoot,From your clovers lift the head;Come uppe, Jetty, follow, follow,Jetty, to the milking-shed ! A FOREST HYMN. The groves were Gods first temples. Ere man learnedTo hew the shaft, and lay the architrave,And spread the roof above them,—ere he framedThe lofty vault, to gather and roll back 363 364 BRYANT. The so-md of anthems; in the darkUng wood, Amidst the cool and silence, he knelt down, And offered to the Mightiest solemn thanks And supplication. Foi his simple heart Micrht not resist the sacred influences Which, from the stilly twilight of the place, And from the gray old trunks that high in heaven Mingled their mossy boughs, and from the sound Of the invisible breath that swayed at once All their green tops, stole over him, and bowed His spirit with the thought of boundless power And inaccessible majesty. Ah, why Should we, in the worlds riper years, neglect Gods ancient sanctuaries, and adore Only among the crowd, and under roofs That our frail hands have raised? Let me, at least, Here, in the shadow of this aged wood, Offer
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1870, booksu, booksubjectenglishpoetry
