As budding pines in Spring; Fresh as the bloom upon his face. IV. A harp is from his shoulder slung; Of flocks upon the neighboring hill - They hear the Danish Boy, While in the dell he sings alone V. There sits he; in his face you spy No trace of a ferocious air, Nor ever was a cloudless sky So steady or so fair. The lovely Danish Boy is blest And happy in his flowery cove: From bloody deeds his thoughts are far; Like a dead Boy he is serene. XXIII. SONG FOR THE WANDERING JEW. THOUGH the torrents from their fountains Clouds that love through air to hasten, What, if through the frozen centre And the Sea-horse, though the ocean If on windy days the Raven The fleet Ostrich, till day closes Brooding on her eggs reposes When chill night that care demands. Day and night my toils redouble, Night and day, I feel the trouble Of the Wanderer in my soul. 1800. Behold XXIV. STRAY PLEASURES. "Pleasure is spread through the earth By their floating mill, That lies dead and still, yon Prisoners three, The Miller with two Dames, on the breast of the Thames! The platform is small, but gives room for them all; And they 're dancing merrily. From the shore come the notes To their mill where it floats, To their house and their mill tethered fast: To the small wooden isle, where, their work to beguile, They from morning to even take whatever is given ; And many a blithe day they have past. In sight of the spires, All alive with the fires Of the sun going down to his rest, In the broad open eye of the solitary sky, Man and Maidens wheel, They themselves make the reel, And their music 's a prey which they seize They dance not for me, Yet mine is their glee! Thus pleasure is spread through the earth The showers of the Spring Rouse the birds, and they sing ; If the wind do but stir for his proper delight, Each leaf, that and this, his neighbor will kiss ; Each wave, one and t'other, speeds after his brother; They are happy, for that is their right! XXV. 1806. THE PILGRIM'S DREAM; OR, THE STAR AND THE GLOWWORM. A PILGRIM, when the summer day Or heath-besprinkled copse might yield, He paced along; and, pensively, Halting beneath a shady tree, Whose moss-grown root might serve for couch or seat, Fixed on a Star his upward eye; Then from the tenant of the sky He turned, and watched, with kindred look, A Glowworm, in a dúsky nook, Apparent at his feet. |