Puslapio vaizdai

And once as he was working near the cell
He heard a voice distinctly; 'twas the youth's,
Who sang a doleful song about green fields,
How sweet it were on lake or wild savannah,
To hunt for food, and be a naked man,
And wander up and down at liberty.

Leoni doted on the youth, and now

His love grew desperate; and defying death,
He made that cunning entrance I described:
And the young man escaped.


'Tis a sweet tale.

And what became of him?


He went on ship-board,

With those bold voyagers who made discovery Of golden lands. Leoni's younger brother

Went likewise; and when he returned to Spain,

He told Leoni, that the poor mad youth,

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Soon after they arrived in that new world,
In spite of his dissuasion, seized a boat,

And, all alone, set sail by silent moonlight
Up a great river, great as any sea,

And ne'er was heard of more: but 'tis supposed
He lived and died among the savage men.





There is a Thorn-it looks so old,

In truth, you'd find it hard to say How it could ever have been young— It looks so old and gray.

Not higher than a two years' child
It stands erect, this aged Thorn;
No leaves it has, no thorny points;

It is a mass of knotted joints,
A wretched thing forlorn.

It stands erect, and like a stone

With lichens it is overgrown.

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